To Be Deemed Unworthy
by zemplit
Summary: While Touma had always bemoaned his misfortune, he depended upon its source for his own survival. That was a mistake.
1. Deviation

I do not own nor claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu no Index.

#

Touma's right arm felt uncomfortable. A gentle numbness seemed to have settled on it, yet his sense of touch remained unhindered. He felt as if his arm was recently doused in cold water, yet no chill was detectable. It felt feeble, powerless, but he could still move and use it without error. There was still something that felt wrong about the arm, however, and Touma lifted it close to his eyes and examined it. But whatever the problem was, it remained elusive, inexpressible. He could not articulate why he even felt he had a problem.

Granted, not everyone had their arms severed and reattached within the course of a few hours like Touma did. He decided he would never revisit Misawa Cram School again, regardless if an insane alchemist resided there or not. Simply seeing Stiyl's organs splattered across the ceiling like some madman's planetarium was rather persuasive.

The door to Touma's room creaked open, and he could see his Doctor enter the room in the early-morning light that passed through the hospital windows. He had a frown on his face and clipboard in his hand that he checked repeatedly as he walked towards the side of Touma's bed. With a click of his tongue, he lifted his head and looked at Touma, his face adopting a more neutral expression.

"Good morning, young man. How is your arm and shoulder feeling today?" The Doctor gave a small smile as he said this, though that quickly receded.

Touma ignored the disconcerting feeling he had in his arm and answered, "It feels fine, it works just as well as it used to, actually."

The Doctor chuckled and said, "Good. I'm not a thaumaturgist, but my work on you was rather miraculous. You're a very lucky young man."

"If I was very lucky, I wouldn't have had my arm cut off in the first place. This Kamijou is never that fortunate," Touma said, sighing.

The Doctor gave another small smile. "Well, your plaster is off, so I daresay you're fit to leave my care today." His then averted his gaze and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "Though I do feel obliged to tell you something more. It's rather sensitive, so you'll have my full confidentiality." He then muttered, so quietly that Touma strained to hear him, "Though that won't stop some people."

"Sensitive? What are you talking about."

The Doctor leveled a careful gaze on Touma. "Let me be blunt with you: Your body is currently producing AIM." A simple statement, and while Touma's previous memories were irrevocably altered, he still possessed his semantic memory and had been in the Power Curriculum Program long enough to understand the implications of what the Doctor was saying.

"Doctor, that's impossible, that can't happen…" He compulsively looked at his right arm again. "With my condition, you know that's impossible. Esper powers and all the rest of that stuff don't work well with me. You should know this, you've treated me before." A stutter entered his speech, and his eyes roamed the room.

A pitying look settled upon the Doctor's face, and he said: "Knowing your previous condition, as you call it, I would have been inclined to agree with you. Having run the tests numerous times, however, has given me sufficient reason to believe that you are now an esper, both legally and technically."

"But that can't happen, my ability would stop any AIM produced in my body. That's what it did before, wasn't it?"

"Before, yes, you are correct. But perhaps this 'ability' of yours doesn't function the way it used to, or it's broken. I can't tell; it's beyond the scope of my expertise. Regardless of your previous state, you still went through the Power Curriculum Program. You went through the chemical therapy, metacognitive training and other measures, so without the suppression of your esper training you can produce the AIM you were conditioned for."

Touma turned his gaze to his arm once again, studying it. '_Imagine Breaker, gone?'_, he thought, flexing his hand. He did not know its significance, its history, or its purpose but it had already saved his life numerous times. Without that protection, that counter to espers and mages, what did he have? He was only an ordinary, powerless high school student now. Well, maybe not completely powerless.

He snapped his head up, the Doctor flinching slightly at the motion. Touma said: "You said I'm an esper now, right? Do you know my ability? What it does, its weaknesses, whatever, just tell me!"

The Doctor frowned slightly at the note of desperation in his patient's voice. "I have no idea; you've never demonstrated your ability before me. It's influenced by your personal reality, but that doesn't help you right now." The Doctor looked down at his clipboard and scribbled a few lines with a connected pen. "I'd suggest going through standard training procedures and test what your ability is at your school while under supervision. It's a required policy in esper development."

Touma looked down for a second, his face rapidly transitioning between numerous emotions before settling on resignation. "Alright, I'll inform my homeroom teacher when I can." He then grimaced. "Hopefully, it'll work out properly. Knowing my rotten luck, probably not." He shook his head and looked at the Doctor. "Anything else you need to tell me?"

"No, that should do it. You'll be released later today." The doctor turned and walked out of the room, nearly tripping as he passed the doorway.

"Are you alright, Doctor," Touma said, confusion etched on his face. What was that about?

The Doctor stood still for a second, carefully examining the floor. He then let out out an embarrassed chuckle. "Yes, I'm fine. I must be rather clumsy today." He gave Touma a mock-glare. "I hope for both of our sakes that your purported bad luck isn't contagious."

Touma scowled at him. "I may be misfortunate, Doctor, but don't blame me for your clumsiness. I'm not contagious." Even as he said that, he thought he could hear Pierce in his head chanting that such a phenomenon would only be the second, and ultimately less dangerous, iteration Kami-yan disease.

He had to stifle a sigh. The memory loss was already suspicious enough, and he didn't need to add a potential mental disorder to the list of reasons to never trust poor Kamijou again. So Touma dutifully ignored the voice; it was likely the result of stress from his confrontation with Aureolus Izzard.

The Doctor merely grinned at Touma's retort and left, closing the door behind him. Touma kept his gaze upon the door for a moment, and returned to his attention to his right hand. The disconcerting feeling within it had intensified and became something close to pain, and he glowered at it in the early morning silence.

#

The plan had gone awry.

Aleister Crowley prided himself on always presenting a calm, collected facade to the, admittedly limited, number of people he interacted, cultivating a mask able to deceive others even in moments of emotional turbulence. It was an invaluable skill, one he sometimes considered even more important than his once renowned magical prowess.

The information he gathered from UNDER_LINE was severely testing that treasured ability of his. It was all he could do to stop himself from outright panicking and overreacting, though if he were to be honest with himself he would know there was no appropriate reaction either.

How was his plan supposed to work when one of the most valuable pieces on the board abruptly decided to leave? It had stayed within his city comfortably up to this point, content with the schemes and tribulations its wielder suffered. He had counted on that consistency, believing it to be one of the more immutable elements in the game he was playing. He thought he understood it enough to guarantee its complacency within his mind.

So why did it leave?

Aleister reviewed the information in his pod, minding freely melding with machine, parallel processing multiple feeds of information within the digital extension of his consciousness the windowless building provided within its impenetrable, labyrinthine corridors.

Sifting through UNDER_LINE and more mundane surveillance methods, Aleister replayed the night of Izzard's defeat in the Misawa Cram School and focused on the moment blood arched in the air and an arm impacted the floor. He all too easily picked up the noises that signified the tearing of flesh. He didn't care about that. He cared about the more metaphysical aspects of the scene.

Ignoring the magician and wielder's defeat of the alchemist who claimed omnipotence, Alesiter examined the now ignored arm bleeding on the other end of the room. He examined an image recreated from recorded infrared light, visual light, audio and vibratory stimuli, and conjecture to paint a picture of departure. If Imagine Breaker decided to leave its wielder, that would have been the ideal time. The question was why.

Aleister knew that the "ability" (for lack of a better word) had some traces of sentience, if not a will and sapience. It had its preferences in determining its wielder, its own preconceptions of an ideal vessel. Whatever those were, it evidently found a candidate amongst the Earth's population more deserving of its power.

The question was who, really. And how to obtain him or her. Aleister would not let the Protestants, Catholics, and Anglicans, the Druze, the Gnostics, or any other religious and/or magical institution that was interested in a power to negate the miracles of any deity; to rejects the spiritual aspect of creation.

And so, Aleister knew he had to hunt and persuade. And if the wielder, assuming Aleister ever found it, proved unwilling to cooperate, destroy and contain.

Aleister decided to contact an old associate of his. She was normally partial to tools that benefitted her organization, but if Aleister planted certain ideas into her head of the danger the subject posed, maybe she would just wash her hands of the matter and leave it to him.

After all, Imagine Breaker had already defied two of her most powerful agents. It was clearly a danger.

Aleister decided to keep an eye on the previous wielder, despite his failure. One still felt wary of a swordsman, even if disarmed.


	2. Consequences

I do not own nor claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu no Index.

* * *

Touma felt disarmed and weak as he walked across the reflective tiles of the hospital lobby, barely avoiding a grimace as a new spasm of pain rippled through his arm. This time he also felt it in his shoulder, but that was unimportant.

It was rather contradictory to walk out of a hospital without having any potential medical problems examined and treated, but Touma was afraid. Afraid of the implications the pain represented and afraid that if others found out they would discover his second, and possibly worst, secret of the limited span of his personal memories.

The sliding doors at the end slid open, basking Touma in the myriad smells of urban life, forcing him to scrunch his nose after spending a few days in the clean, antiseptic atmosphere of the hospital provided.

Index's reaction was much more pronounced.

Her face curled in distaste and she nearly gagged. After a second of recovery, in which they walked through the streets to his dormitory, Index pouted and asked, "This happened the last time you were put in a hospital too, Touma. Why does it always smell bad afterwards." She glared at him and confirmed, yes, she did blame him for this predicament. Such is the life of Touma Kamijou.

Before he could scrape together an answer from the bits of half-forgotten knowledge floating in his mind, Himegami deigned to respond instead, showing her now expected level of tact, "Because you've never been in a hospital, nor in an equivalent, your body obviously can not handle such drastic changes without making you nauseous." Himegami then looked at the now wide-eyed Index a little more studiously. "Have you only been treated by magic by the Anglicans your entire life."

Index looked thoughtful for a moment, then sighed and said, "I don't know."

Touma turned his head around at that, unwilling to let them see his face at that moment. He understood precisely what she meant, but memory loss was something one didn't necessarily share with others. He only knew because that fire magician Stiyl told him. He knew she wasn't aware of his own loss. If Touma had it his way, no one besides his doctor would know. The less that information got out, the less trouble he would receive.

Touma looked back down at his hand. Trouble he could no longer handle.

If he was honest with himself, even before he lost Imagine Breaker, he honestly couldn't handle trouble with it alone. The only reason he was still alive was his newfound talent for improv acting and Stiyl's skillful usage of fire magic to create illusions. Imagine Breaker was powerful enough to save Himegami's life, but that didn't matter to a magician who could warp reality with his mind.

In his reverie he didn't notice until it was too late that someone was moving quite fast somewhere in front of him. Thus, it is no surprise he was knocked over by somebody running into him while looking over their shoulder.

Bad luck persists, it seems.

Touma looked up from his awkward positions on the ground, eyes squinting in the noon sunlight. The perpetrator was also on the ground in front of him, looking dazed herself. The runner looked like your average middle-school girl, with shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes, and a brown and blue school uniform. What broke the mold was what looked like military-grade night-vision goggles resting on her head.

Touma wasn't always the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he had the observation skill required to note that there was something wrong or very weird going on. Perhaps both.

Also, he felt like he was being stabbed by a million tiny invisible knives all throughout his body as his arm problem decided to upgrade and become a body problem, but that could be dealt with later. Preferably after it stopped.

The girl tilted her head in confusion and said, "Misaka, is sorry, Misaka says. Misaka just happened to be in a hurry, Misaka reassures." The girl's, Misaka's, expression did not change once during her apology.

One of Touma's eyebrows twitched. Why did the girl sound like she was reviewing a manuscript or screenplay? And doing it badly too! No emoting or gesturing, not even a simple facial expression. Touma felt mildly insulted by her lack of dedication to her craft.

Well, he felt mildly insulted before he reminding himself he was making assumptions on the girl without ever having met her or anyone like her before, but the fact remained that her style of speech was rather idiosyncratic.

Index walked around Touma and stopped before the girl as she was getting up, staring at her in morbid fascination. She turned toward Himegami, who was standing to Touma's side, debating if she should help him out, and said, "You call me sheltered, Aisa? Hmm!" Index pouted and looked away, though Touma, from his angle on the ground, saw that expression break soon after.

Misaka finished getting up, and looked down at Touma who was still on the ground, trying to avoid writhing in pain. He succeeded in only making an awkward shuffle every few seconds. Hopefully no one was looking. Touma idly looked around for a second and was surprised that, indeed, no one was looking. Or around. Or heard, for that matter.

Only a minute ago, the sidewalk had been an ordinary one that resembled countless others throughout the Seventh District of Academy City. It was lined with shops. student dormitories, parking garages, apartment building, and the other nigh-infinite minutiae required to service a city of more than two million people. As such, it tended to at least have a few pedestrians about.

Yet there were none, and that gnawed at something in the back of Touma's mind. His musing ceased once a hand suddenly appeared in his field of view, and, following the arms up, he saw the face of Misaka looking down at him, the barest hint of a frown tugging at her lips.

"Misaka wishes you would let her help you up, Misaka says, annoyed. Misaka notes that you look foolish sitting down there."

Touma sighed and took her hand and was lurched to his feet with suprising strength. He managed to find his balance after a second, but it was a close thing. Was Academy City putting growth hormones or stimulants in school lunches now? That girls frame did not suggest that kind of strength.

"Sorry about that crash," Touma said, wincing as Misaka stared at him. What was it he said? Was she offended that he apologized, or was his apology insufficient? Was he simply over analyzing things and overlooking the fact the girl was almost certainly crazy?

"It is my fault, Misaka reassures." She looked past him. "Misaka was hurrying for no reason, anyway, Misaka says. Misaka wanted to arrive to her appointment early, but arriving just on time will do as well, Misaka admits."

"Well, okay, then. I don't want to keep you," Touma said. The girl nodded and sprinted past him, nearly running into Himegami as she did so. Touma sighed. The girl clearly had no sense of of spatial orientation or was nearly as unlucky as he was.

Index shook her head, blue-white hair weaving through the hair, and commented, "Strange girl, huh. Come on, Touma and Asia! Let's get home and eat lunch." Index visibly brightened as she said that, and spun around and marched down the street once more.

Himegami shook her head and smiled and followed index, her long hair swaying as Touma's eyes followed her back. With a grimace, he walked after them, deciding to quicken his pace even though it felt like the ground beneath was a bed of needles instead of smooth pavement.

Touma honestly didn't want Index out of his sight. Once he left her to her own devices, and an alchemist kicked her out of a sense of misguided devotion. Then again, what could he do is someone wanted to kidnap or kill her? All he had was his instincts, muscle memory, and experience of dozens of street brawls he had over the course of the years in Academy City he lived. But against a magician or esper without Imagine Breaker…

Touma shook his head clear of that thought, though he regretted that action as a wave of pain and nausea coursed through him. Shifting aside his urge to vomit, he braced himself and managed to avoid falling, ending up creating what appeared to be a half-stumble. Not the most graceful reaction ever, but Touma was willing to roll with it, as long as neither Index, Himegami, or any other innocent pedestrian or pre-memory loss acquaintance saw him-

"Touma, are you okay?"

'_Damn.'_

Touma craned his uncooperative neck and trained his eyes upon what looked like a mass of white, red, and black. It was likely reality composed itself in a similar matter to that time when Pierce gave Touma some broken glasses at his remedial classes and told him that they were a family heirloom Touma entrusted to him. They broke even further after Touma tripped down some stairs. Touma, ever the magnanimous individual, decided not to try and beat Pierce up after that.

Much, at least.

'_Wait, what was going on?'_ Touma thought about the tangent he went on for a second, and looked up at Himegami's worried face. '_Oh yeah, was busy being sick. I guess my brain isn't spared.'_

Blue, white, and green appeared next to Himegami and Touma, using his incomparable powers of induction, determined that the new distorted mess of colors was likely Index. Maybe. Drom the agitated shifting of light and incorporeal movement, Touma determined maybe-Index was worried and concerned in response to his negative shift in health. That made Touma smile slightly; it was nice to have Himegami and Index care enough about his wellbeing to appear openly nervous, but it also made him feel a little guilty inside as well.

The amorphous mass of colors next to Himegami coalesced into Index, wearing an expression of mounting horror. That turned Touma's smile into a frown. Concern, he could accept. But why did she look at him like he was in danger of imminent death?

"Touma, why is there blood leaking from your mouth?"

Oh, so that was why.

Touma idly raised a trembling hand to his face, feeling the flowing blood coursing down his chin. His mouth tasted metallic, now that he took the time to notice. The spasms of pain he felt when knocked down on the ground were also returning in earnest, rippling up and down his spine, arriving in waves to every part of his body. Touma looked up again. Index looked horrified still, and Himegami's face paled and she took an uneasy step away.

Their bodies and the world around faded into a swirling palette of loud colors and disorienting beats. It all eventually spun in the vortex before leaving his view entirely.

Touma closed his eyes and embraced darkness.

#

Soft voices gently roused Touma's consciousness. He felt light, unburdened, and fading, flying away from an Earth whose gravity no longer tied him. It was gentle, and felt right and appropriate. If he left now, the world would continue and he would have freedom again, unburdened by false memories, a broken mind, and deadly secrets. If he let go now, life would follow the right course.

_Get up_.

That thought suddenly burned itself into his mind, organizing his incoherent and half-conscious thoughts. It roared from deep within him, a gesture of defiance to a universe that would rob him of his right. It cleared all resignation and left searing reminder of a life he had almost forgotten.

With effort, Touma opened his eyes and saw a familiar ceiling, a fan spinning somewhere on the edge of his vision, and the soft caress of a breeze through a window to his left. Touma sighed. With his small experience with life, it was strange how one could become so acquainted with a small hospital room.

Touma lifted his head and upper back to turn and examine the room, engraving every little detail and implication within its walls, floors, sheets, and smells into his mind and comparing it with an image he remembered. It was nearly exactly the same as the one he viewed this morning, which was only hours ago if he was reading the afternoon rays pouring into the room correctly.

He shifted his shoulders and winced as pain lanced down his sides once more. Clearly, whatever he was suffering from, it left its mark plainly.

The opening of a door caused Touma to stiffen, but his tension was relieved when it was only his doctor entering the room. The man possessed none of usual affability or good humor and looked upon Touma as a breeder may look upon a broken-legged horse.

"Touma Kamijou," the Doctor said, voice soft and hoarse, as he stood by the side of Touma's bed, staring down at him, unblinking. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and said, "How are you feeling?"

Touma, concerned with the Doctor's disposition, said, "I'm feeling pretty bad, but not as bad as earlier." Which was the truth. Touma honestly felt like he was going to die.

The Doctor considered Touma's word for a moment and said, "By earlier, do you mean when you last left the hospital?"

Touma nodded.

The Doctor gave a tired, drawn out sigh. "That was yesterday, Touma. We've held you overnight. You nearly died on the street while walking home."

Touma gaped and quickly bit hit his tongue, and spoke, voice quavering and hesitating, "What?"

"Your friend, Aisa Himegami, I believe she said her name, managed to call paramedics before you suffered liver failure. You were also undergoing cardiac arrest and had severe hemorrhaging in several portions of your body. Other symptoms include Anaphylaxis, consistent with a severe allergic reaction, and inflammation of the lungs." The Doctor paused for moment. "To be quite honest, its miraculous you're still alive and functioning at a level sufficient to sustain conversation."

Touma took all that information in, processed it, examined it, and analyzed it and was left with nothing. He couldn't accept what apparently happened, what might be continuing to happen.

_The City is to blame. It exposed you to what they knew might one day kill you._

Touma closed his eyes for a moment and forced that thought out of his mind. After a moment, he managed to say, "Why did this happen?"

The Doctor looked troubled. "I don't precisely know, I've only seen such symptoms in a few cases, and you can't be affected by …" The Doctor paused and stared at Touma, his eyes widening, mounting horror carving his face. He glanced at Touma's right hand for a moment, but that moment was enough to convince him what was responsible for his state.

"Touma," the Doctor said, voice urgent, fright coloring it. "You wouldn't happen to be involved with a more _supernatural_ group, are you?"

_He grasps the barest echo of the truth, but it is sufficient_.

Touma pressed his fingers to his temples, closing out all thoughts, and said simply and plainly, "Yes."


	3. Morality

I do not own nor claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu no Index.

* * *

Academy City possessed a certain, almost ineffable grandeur at night. The low thrum of spinning wind turbines and the whisper of low friction tires racing across the pavement permeated the ears of anyone who stopped for a moment to listen. The night, particularly near the high rises, skyscrapers, and schools that were omnipresent, were well-lit by powerful, energy-efficient street lamps that spread a gentle glow across the city's twenty-two districts. Yet, despite the illumination that was the envy of many a city, despite the constant, almost comforting noises of urban life, shadows lurked in the alleyways and side streets, places even the vigilant watch of Anti-Skill and the web of surveillance and security equipment did not watch. They were pools of anonymity, places the people of authority in Academy City deemed too expensive to watch. Or places where they didn't want anybody to watch.

It was in one of those that Touma wandered, aimless, pained.

The Seventh District was both the home of his dorm and his hospital, but Touma avoided both of those. He escaped the latter, and did not want to confront the former. The Doctor had readily told him the truth that he already suspected, confirming one inevitable truth, one the Doctor swore to keep secret, no matter what happened.

After all, Touma did not want to see the look on the faces of his friends, teachers, peers, or others when they heard that he was going to die. Such things were best kept close to one's chest, Touma figured.

So, he fled the hospital. No one stopped him. He was now well enough to walk, and maybe they thought we was only a visitor, though a late-night one. Touma suspected that this wasn't the case, however-his doctor probably had something to do with it in all likelihood. And Touma did not want to spend the night there, even in the now familiar room. Being alone in a room would force him to think, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Touma didn't know why, but the dark streets he was wandering felt familiar to him, like an old acquaintance whose face remained etched in his memory but whose name faded with time. Perhaps it was a relic of the past, a time before the current Touma was born. While he had dismissed such a period before, he felt consumed by longing now. Why had he been so shortsighted that he ignored his past just because it frightened him, just because it felt foreign to him?

_Because you don't want to see that girl cry. Because you don't want to be seen as a liar, a thief of a face that fits you but isn't you._

Touma stopped and gritted his teeth and forced away the whispering thought that pervaded his consciousness. He was just on the edge of an alleyway and a well-lit street, glass-paned buildings lining both sides of the street and a small brick convenience store to his right. Now that he was paying attention, he smelled rotting food and other filth permeating the air around him.

He took an uneasy step onto the sidewalk and gasped from the pain he could no longer hide under the guise of routine. The streetlamps around shifted in magnitude, undulating under his squirming gaze. He could taste blood in his mouth once again.

Closing his eyes, Touma dismissed the world and retreated within, but that only begged more questions more confusion. Why had he been so negligent, so afraid of the past? What had he been ignoring in his confusion and his haste? His parents?

Touma realized he couldn't recall their faces or names. Did he have siblings? Extended family? Were all of them still alive? Were they worried because he hadn't contacted them? How would they feel when they learned he was dead? Dead of something that was impossible, dead because of a lie a Doctor would tell them over the phone?

_Just because you reject part of yourself doesn't mean it will die in seclusion. It will fester and adapt, like all life_.

'_Shut up,'_ Touma thought, trying to force the whisper out of his consciousness.

_Why do you think you can force me out when you can't control your own mind, direct your own musings and recollections?_

Touma opened his eyes and drank the night's air, ignoring the mounting agony of the streetlights drilling into his skull. The whisper faded, as did the lights around him, their magnitude decreasing as his head ached. After a few seconds of frantic breathing, Touma calmed and settled, the lights returning as his pain faded.

Perhaps he should have stayed in the hospital after all. At least there he could have gone insane in comfort.

A gentle breeze started and Touma walked down the street idly, not conscious of much of anything by that point. He just wanted to be alone and doing something.

On that street late at night with nothing other than the artificial light of urban life keeping him company, Touma glimpsed an almost familiar sight: a brown-haired, middle-school girl with night-vision goggles on her head, walking down the streets at an almost disinterested gait, carrying a bundle of wiring with her. Her shadow was elongated by the light of the city and Moon. She slid down one of the Seventh District's innumerable alleyways.

Touma stood still for only a moment, before deciding to follow her. While the Seventh District was not devoid of people or traffic at this period, its residential and educational nature did limit such factors more than what one would see in one of the more commercial districts.

Besides, seeing a middle-school girl as unique as Misaka walking around alone at night was food enough for thought. He decided to ask her what she was doing.

_You run from your own problems yet confront her on her's? You're a hypocrite. _

With a deep breath to clear his mind, Touma ducked into the hallway Misaka entered, senses alert. Whatever was going on, it was at the very least suspicious. The dark, narrow confines and the smell of decay and rot did not dissuade him of that notion.

With a grunt of pain, Touma walked quickly down the alleyway, checking around and above him frequently. He also kept himself alert for any sudden tremors, vibrations, or changes in the ambient sounds and temperature of the area. While he couldn't do much if an esper or magician attacked, which was looking unlikely, he might buy himself enough time to dodge a few supernatural bursts of power before being inevitably skewered or blown up.

That cheery thought in mind, Touma arrived at the one thing he had been dreading since he began this impromptu chase a minute and a half ago: an intersection. Touma sighed in frustration, and, looking down every direction and finding nothing, contemplated leaving.

_You should leave. There is no purpose in chasing after frivolous goals._

'_Shut up!'_ Touma steadied and set off down one of the alleyways at random, determined not to lose to his own doubt and fear. Determined to find Misaka and question what she was doing, if for no reason other than his own curiosity. He didn't have more than a passing knowledge of who she was, but he had to do something to occupy his time, to do something potentially constructive before he died.

An large opening revealed itself before him, a small road leading from it to one of the main streets. More alleyways ran from its edges, likely crisscrossing the entire block. Dumpsters, lampposts, and a few concrete roadblocks dotted an area that was large enough to contain several large trucks. Numerous doors and metal gates were attached to the buildings composing the perimeter.

And Misaka stood alone in the middle, scrap metal surrounding her, back facing Touma.

Touma paused to a moment, considering his options. The girl was clearly waiting for something. Could it be related to the appointment she said she had? Why would she wait here of all places? After a few more seconds passed, he decided he would simply observe. Some people would probably find his behavior oddly suspicious, but he found this whole situation oddly suspicious.

Ducking out of the alleyway, Touma sped towards a nearby dumpster, trying to blend in with the shadows. New spasms of pain raced through his body as he reached, and hid, behind the dumpster, but thankfully Misaka appeared to have not noticed his movement. He peered over the dumpster's side, ignoring the smell, and blinked. Then blinked again.

There was somebody _there_, standing in front of Misaka. Someone he had never seen before in his short existence, and this person was distinctive enough to remember if he had. White hair, pale skin, and a black shirt. But the strangest, most horrifying things were the eyes. Pure red eyes. Touma thought that this person had been an albino for a second, but the moment he saw those eyes, he dismissed that notion. No albino had eyes like that No _person_ had eyes like that.

Was this the person she had an appointment with earlier? Did she reschedule it, or did they need another one?

Red Eyes talked, Touma struggling in futility to catch their voices. He managed to pick up some of what Misaka said, however. Apparently they were here for an appointment and she was just in time. Red Eyes laughed, and Touma wondered what kind of circumstances would lead to those two needing to meet in the middle of the night.

That question was partially answered when the ground under their feet exploded and Touma barely managed to fully hide behind the dumpster before the shock wave struck it, nearly knocking it over. Touma was knocked to the ground, his back resting against the dirt and pavement beneath him.

The second after, he tasted blood and dust and heard the roar of the wind within the confines of the narrow alleyways. He could barely breathe, and his limbs refused to operate for a moment, but he managed to rush to his feet and stare over the dumpster.

He could see barely Misaka in the small dust storm kicked off by the explosion, and marveled at the fact she was still standing, holding tightly to a length of wire stretching from her to Accelerator's feet.. She had to have been near the epicenter of that explosion. The air around lighted up for a moment with what looked like a localized lightning strike, and shrapnel propelled from the ground around her at Accelerator, before the air tore, ripped through the pavement and struck Misaka with enough force to knock her off her feet and send her flying several meters before landing with a sickening crunch on the pavement.

Red Eyes calmly walked up to her battered form and stared down at her as a god of old might have stared down at an act of petty human defiance. With the greatest of derision. "Not a terrible trick you pulled with the conductive wire there. Set up some explosives before hand, and you used some magnetism to block yourself from both the explosion and me and took initiative and attacked me with them while I was distracted. You probably spent quite some time preparing this place for battle. Seems like you clones are finally starting to piece together how you might make it through my defences. Obviously, it failed. Overall, a disappointing effort. I expected better by now, honestly."

That boy had to have been a high level, Touma realized, to accomplish the stunt he just did. He had to have been an esper with the casual usage of his powers and the lack of ceremony, ritual, or incantations Touma learned to associate with magic. He was probably even a level five.

And it was clear that he was going to kill Misaka.

Touma didn't think or contemplate his next course of action, merely trusted his instinctive emotional response, ignoring his growing nausea and fear, and picked up a broken shard of concrete blasted away from the explosion earlier and chucked it at Accelerator with as much force and precision as he could manage in his currently debilitated state, leaning most of his body out from behind the dumpster as he did so.

He was surprised that when seconds later he was struck in his left arm by that same rock moving with double the force. He couldn't determine if he screamed when he heard something _crack_ within that arm. He was cognizant enough to realize he fell onto his back, however.

_Why didn't you run?_

Touma closed his eyes. He hadn't realized until now how cool tonight felt, how the breeze blew around him. He heard the boy talk. "What was that now? One of your sisters coming to help? You guys wanted to set up an ambush?" Touma heard the soft shuffling of feet. "Huh. Seems like we got a witness. A shame."

With difficulty, Touma opened his eyes and forced his body into a sitting position. The winds had died and the dust that was carried with them settled. The ground in front of him was broken and cracked, pieces of concrete, rebar, and scattered fragments of plywood littered the area, covering in without pattern, form, or function. It was as if a massive typhoon or another such natural disaster had struck the area, tearing apart and chucking pieces of the urban environment.

When Touma saw the boy approach him, he knew that his conjecture was not necessarily invalid. The boy certainly had the power and, judging by his scowl and treatment of Misaka, the will to emulate such a thing.

The boy stopped short of Touma, leaned down, and stared at Touma with those terrifying red eyes. He spoke, voice soft and patient. "Do you know who I am?"

Touma hesitantly shook his head.

The boy closed his eyes and tilted his head, as if considering a new piece of experimental data that invalidated his hypothesis. He opened his eyes again and chuckled, before saying, "I'm the one the higher-ups in the city decided to call Accelerator years ago. I would have thought the name had fully trickled down by now and etched itself in the public consciousness." Accelerator grunted and stood up. "Unfortunate."

Accelerator then smashed his leg into Touma's chest. The force of the kick sent Touma wheezing, and a second later he fell to the ground again.

Accelerator turned around and walked backed towards Misaka, who was now struggling to stand. "As you're ignorant, I'll let you live. I doubt anyone will believe you if you told them what you saw tonight anyway. Besides, if you blabbed too much, I'm sure the organizers of this little event would have you silenced anyway. And even if the world did take you seriously, it wouldn't change a damn thing. However," Accelerator looked back over his shoulder at the still prone Touma, "If you dare interrupt me again, I will _fucking_ kill you, understand?" Without waiting for a confirmation, Accelerator faced forward once more and walked.

Hearing Accelerator's fading footsteps, Touma's pain faded before the new onslaught of horror and revulsion that streamed through him. '_He can't do this. This isn't right, this is wrong, wrong, wrong,...'_

_And what do you expect to do? You heard him. You'll die if you try and you can do nothing to change that outcome. Either she dies or you both die._

'_Shut up!'_ Touma forced himself to his feet and, fighting off the nausea and almost crippling pain he felt, stared ahead at Accelerator's retreating back. '_I'm going to die anyway, right? Might as well die trying to be help someone. I might as well make a decent ending for someone like me.'_

So Touma reached desperately within himself, trying to find something, _anything_ that would help. Imagine Breaker was a passive ability, something unable to be sensed or felt, only manipulated in the most physical of methods. So Touma didn't know what to look for, what to try and find, but he knew that there was something to be found. The Doctor confirmed that much for him.

To deviate from the expectations of normality, that was one factor that impacted the development of Espers. It was necessary, for one's perception of the world needed to differ from the world itself to properly manifest one's abilities. To impress the s lesser, subjective world upon the greater, objective world through the medium of AIM was the ultimate controlling principle of an Esper's ability. And the more distinct and formed the internal world is, the greater ultimate effect one has on the real world.

Touma could not particularly remember any true specifics, other than the concept was grounded in quantum mechanics and the old thought experiment of Schrodinger's Cat. He didn't care about that at the moment, though. While the scientific knowledge to understand the various laws and principles an ability related to and sheer cognitive capacity empowered one's ultimate level as an Esper, those factors were not necessarily the origin of the abilities in general. As the Doctor said, anyone going through the Power Curricular Program developed an ability, no matter how weak or useless. It was all a matter of trusting one's own delusions, to both ignore and pay heed to the laws of physics as it suited them.

And Touma already had experience in living a lie. Belief was something he could conjure effortlessly. To pretend to be someone distinct, separate from himself, he had to acquire some skills as an actor.

The actual sensation of using an Esper ability was distinct and strange. His homeroom teacher Komoe Tsukuyomiexplained it within Touma's remedial classes and Touma recalled various pieces of the phenomena from his semantic memory. It was described as an introspective action, requiring a firm focus and clarity of intent, comparing the inner and outer worlds and manifesting the desired action within the inner and using AIM to actualize it in the outer. Touma has heard it described variously as probability and causality manipulation, transference of matter-energy from the Esper's conceptualized universe to maintain thermodynamic law on a multi-universal scale, and many other theories and hypotheses.

For Touma, it felt like he was pulling from a universe of light and color the possibility of divergence and change within the world. Both worlds shifted under his touch, convulsing, touching, as if they were sharing resources in some new variety of an interdimensional trade deal.

Touma felt his view shift as well, the world before him that contained Accelerator, Misaka, and a loading area for trucks was infused with new colors and dimensions. Touma realized he could tell the general proportions of the wavelengths of light and filled the area. Little in the Visible Spectrum, but plenty of Ultraviolet and Infrared, it appeared. Long radio waves swam through the surrounding buildings and impossibly short gamma rays occasionally buffeted the area.

Accelerator was only a few short meters from Misaka now, and while his back was turned Touma could _see_ the growing grin on his face. Touma figured he must be somehow directly feeding the information contained in the light reflecting off of Accelerator's face, either directly feeding it into his optic nerve or brain directly. Touma extended the reach of this secondary sight, and grimaced as he was confronted by the fact he was _seeing_ from many different, impossible angles.

Ignoring that, Touma extended his reach to the light around Accelerator and twisted it, randomly changing the direction and wavelength of countless photons. It wasn't elegant, and it wasn't efficient, and it felt like his brain was being stabbed, but it was undoubtedly confusing to whoever it targeted. That was all that mattered to Touma right now. He could still see the vague impression of Accelerator within from the light striking him, but that was it.

Accelerator paused, though Touma now couldn't see his face due to the whirlwind of color he created. It didn't matter. Touma sprinted as fast as he could in his current state and aimed at Accelerator's back.

Touma crossed the distance in six seconds and Accelerator remained unmoving, and Misaka stood, injured, cradling her arm, in front of him, blinking. The air was still save for the occasional breeze and the smell of dust seemed to have vacated. The night was far too peaceful for this type of confrontation.

Touma made sure to slide near the end of his dash, letting friction leech his speed, and swung a relatively soft punch with his right hand, a force of habit. He didn't know Accelerator's power, not exactly despite the indicative name, and was unsure of the exact nature of his defences. They certainly seemed passive in nature, considering his purported surprise earlier, but that could have been a bluff. The defences may only have worked against projectiles as well. Touma erred on the side of caution and decided to start his offensive to what amounted to a light tap.

He nearly screamed in frustration as he felt his arm get blown away within less than a millimeter of touching Accelerator. The worst of all possible outcomes, in a way, While Accelerator might have prepared for Touma's blow, it seemed all too likely that it was passive and would block any type of damage Touma tried to inflict upon Accelerator. Worst of all, it seemed like it would also reflect if back upon his enemy if necessary.

Touma reflexively tucked his right arm in cradled it due to the pain, but Touma's caution prevented it from being injured. In that moment of distraction, Touma released his hold on the light around him, and brought his head from examining his arm to see Accelerator's red eyes glaring at him. Accelerator tapped his finger against Touma's chest and Touma flew.

It took only a few seconds for Touma's back to smash against the dumpster he had been hiding behind earlier, flipping it over, Touma rolling over it and onto the pavement behind it. Touma gasped for air, ribs feeling sore, back busted, and tried to stand up, only managing a crouch after a few seconds of panting and whimpering. He looked up to see Accelerator walking towards him, murder in his eyes.

Desperately, Touma bended the light in front of him, increased its wavelength and directed it towards Accelerator, ignoring the nosebleed that started. Near instantly, Touma closed his eyes from the impossibly brightness that entered them, spots still swimming under his eyelids. '_I guess his power reflects all things he perceives as harmful.'_

_Run! Do you want to die?_

Touma once again tried to stand up, managing to succeed this time. A second later he felt a hand tighten around his throat. Touma opened his eyes and could barely perceive Accelerator in front of him.

Accelerator said, "I see. Even when I try to be merciful, my trust will always be betrayed by lowlifes like you. Oh well. That will change soon enough. Not a bad trick back there. Never had to deal with an EM radiation specialist before. It would have been interesting to study your power more in depth, but now I think I have sufficient knowledge to counter it in the future if the situation arises." Accelerator chuckled. "Time to die, maggot-"

A strange chirping entered the air, along with the smell of ozone. Accelerator frowned and turned away from Touma, back to Misaka who now stood a few meters away, hand outstretched, electricity crackling along its length. "It would be inappropriate within the confines of the experiment to kill bystanders, reminds Misaka." She had a slight frown on her face.

"Tch. This guy isn't a bystander. The moment he threw that rock to me he decided to become a participant, but I forgave him, then he tried to attack me again! What's that anglosphere aphorism? 'Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you.' This guy knew what he was getting into and shouldn't be surprised at the consequences of his mistake."

Touma managed to wheeze out, "It wasn't a mistake." Accelerator's head spinned and stared at him once more. "I don't care what the circumstances are, you were going to kill her. No matter what perspective you take, that's wrong. That's evil. Do you want to be remembered as a monster?"

Accelerator chuckled, mania entering his voice. "You truly know nothing, do you? People already think I'm a monster. The degree at this point is meaningless. But after I finish the process you witnessed here today, I won't have to worry about such considerations anymore. Opinions are already beneath me and soon enough so will their voices." His voice and eyes softened. "I won't have to worry about anything by that point." He glared at Touma once more. "And who are you to lecture me, you piece of shit? Paragon of fucking morality we have here, huh! I was going to kill you anyway, but wiping that self-righteous condescension of your face will make it far more enjoyable."

"Misaka feels it is prudent to remind Accelerator of her earlier comment-"

Accelerator turned to her once more. "Shut up! Be a good lamb and wait for your slaughter, won't you? I'm already feeling annoyed tonight. You're beat, so you might as well start preparing whatever token resistance you have before I crush it and you."

Her expression didn't waver. "Misaka proposes that you release him, and in return she will give you a challenge, Misaka promises."

Accelerator snorted. "Doubtful. But you may as well continue, as our night has already been derailed."

Misaka nodded. "Remember. As you said earlier, Misaka prepared the area carefully, and we're able to trigger specialized bombs with electrical signals, both from our powers and our network, Misaka explains helpfully." The ground behind Accelerator exploded.

Touma clamped his hands to his ears, desperately try to shield them from the piercing sound of the detonation, and crumbled to the ground as Accelerator released his neck, the shockwave rattling his teeth. He closed his eyes, pain still present from his attempted attack earlier mixing with the new pain from the flash of the explosion.

Accelerator had likely saved him there, as being in front of Touma shielded him from most of the damage. Misaka didn't have that luxury, and she was quite close to the epicenter of the blast.

Touma opened his eyes and saw Accelerator racing through the air at an impossible speed to collide with what looked like a mass of wire and twisted metal hovering in the air in front of Misaka. It didn't stand a chance. It was torn apart in a horrible screech of twisting metal and blasted apart, knocking Misaka through the air to land on her shoulder several meters away, unable to right herself before Accelerator arrived to kick her in the ribs, smashing her through the air once more to collide with a wall. She fell down and did not stir.

_This is your chance. This is what she sacrificed her life to do. Run while you have the opportunity!_

Touma inhaled very calmly, watching as Accelerator approached the downed girl, and reached out and inverted the direction of all light surrounding Accelerator. Touma stood up, ignoring the spasms of pain that raced down his spine and the bursting capillaries in his arms, and ran.

Accelerator paused, blinded, and growled as Touma passed him, no doubt hearing his footsteps, but stood still, expecting a counterattack. A few days ago, Touma might have been willing to risk that, risk dying to defeat the unbeatable foe, to rely on Imagine Breaker to even the playing field.

That Touma was dead. The new one only cared about Misaka right now, no matter how dangerous it was to ignore Accelerator. So Touma hooked his arm around her shoulders, helped her up, ignored the metallic taste of his tongue as he continued maintaining his power, ignored her bleary eyes and confused expression, and hauled her down the small road out into the main streets as expediently as he could.

After ten seconds, he heard the pavement behind them crack.

After twenty seconds, he felt gale force winds trying to push them down.

After thirty seconds, he heard the entire opening behind them break, the sides of the building crack, and a what amounted to a week typhoon start buffering them from behind.

After forty seconds, Touma released his power, barely conscious now.

After a minute, Touma and Misaka were out on the streets and ducking into an alleyway, barely avoiding the shrapnel of the massive shockwave that originated behind them, and Touma tried to ignore the all-too audible scream of frustration that pierced the Academy City night.

* * *

Well, this is the penultimate chapter of the mini-arc I have set up here, establishing the main plot hook for the next few chapters and an important step in Touma's overall character development. I just hope the action scene (such as it is) came out alright. I hope none of you are too disappointed with the Esper ability I have selected for Touma, or with the characterization I have chosen for Accelerator and our Misaka clone. By the way, for reference's sake, if we're using the Railgun timeline here this takes place before Misaka discovers/meets 9982, but after her initial discovery of the plan. I think its obvious this take on the Sisters Arc is going to diverge in a rather dramatic fashion.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. The next one should hopefully be put by next Friday, or February 7th. Thanks for reading.


	4. Transformation

I do not own nor claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu no Index.

* * *

Touma and Misaka sat on a city bench under the shadow of a tree within a small park. Both were trying to rest, though they were exhausted and dispirited, despite remaining alert for a predator by the name of Accelerator stalking the Academy City streets. It was the farthest location Touma could go before his body simply collapsed, and was only supported by the now fully conscious Misaka who set both of them down on that bench in a park.

It had been half an hour and neither of them spoke a word, and Misaka staring straight ahead, eyes dull, the entire time. For the most part, Touma didn't care, too preoccupied with his wounds and his fear of discovery, fear that he would fail. He would simply rest and worry for now. He supposed he could go back to the hospital, bring Misaka with him. She looked very much like a student, and all Academy City students received a free medical plan, courtesy of generous Academy City subsidies and welfare. He could call the hospital, probably request an ambulance if possible, and receive treatment.

But then again, treatment would not help Touma now. Most of his injuries were the result of his new status; an esper-magician hybrid, that Frog-Faced Doctor called him. Maybe not a magician per se, but he was clearly affected by magic to the extent that its interaction with his naturally generated AIM was causing damage to his body tissue. Touma already figured out that simply using his esper powers magnified by the damage by several orders of magnitude, the blood leaking down from his nose, mouth, and arms being proof of that.

Besides, calling the hospital might be dangerous. Clearly some kind of group was backing Accelerator, and from that esper's words it seemed they were also observing the battle (more of a retreat) they had, likely even knew Misaka and his location even now. That set Touma's teeth on edge, but the fact that Accelerator had not descended upon them, stopped underestimating them, and simply leveled the place with a flick of his fingers was probably a good sign. It was likely this group did not possess a direct method of communicating with Accelerator right now, either.

Touma glanced at Misaka. Maybe she did. While Touma did not think the middle-school girl sitting beside him purposefully tried to get herself killed, the fact remained that she sought out Accelerator on her own initiative, was a potent esper on her own, and was clearly dangerous for someone of her apparent age, considering her usage of explosives during their confrontation with Accelerator, and the disturbing ease with which she use deadly force. Honestly, Touma did not know what kind of relationship she shared with Accelerator. She was quite polite and courteous with him, but he rudely dismissed her, though that seemed somewhat in character with an attempted murderer. And it doesn't seem like it was a fight evolving out of tension from an argument or disagreement. Judging by how thoroughly she prepared the battlefield and how she and Accelerator talked with one another, it seemed quite likely that they met their to fight.

The circumstances behind such a relationship was frightening to ponder. But he had already involved himself, and he felt a responsibility to see the situation to its, or his, end.

"Why did you try to save me, Misaka inquires, curious of your reasons."

Touma turned his head and face her, her stoic expression molding into something more indicative of confusion. It was slight, but on a face as unmoving as Misaka's, it implied a great deal.

Touma said, "Because it was the right thing to do. You can clearly handle yourself, but you were going to die against him."

"So, Misaka questions. Why did you interrupt that? Misaka wonders if such a thing is worth preventing."

"Obviously, it is!" Touma watched her carefully as she tilted her head and considered his words. "It's not morally right, nor is it legally right. Nothing could justify Accelerator's actions there." Touma paused for a moment. "Besides, shouldn't you understand this? Weren't you trying to save my life with that distraction of yours?"

Misaka stared at Touma, unblinking. "Misaka simply followed the correct interpretation of the Experiment's parameters, Misaka affirms with finality."

"There's that word again. Experiment. What does that have to do with you and Accelerator."

"As you probably could figure out, Accelerator is a level five esper, unlike Misaka, who is a level three, Misaka explains. In fact, he is the strongest esper in the city, likely the strongest entity in the world. Misaka thinks he showed incredible restraint in that last battle. Misaka hypothesizes that Accelerator purposefully does not allow himself to fully exercise his abilities to both entertain himself during our confrontations and to facilitate his attempts to reach SYSTEM."

SYSTEM. The ultimate esper ideal. The ultimate goal of scientific research and development in Academy City. To achieve a singularity within an esper, to reach beyond human capability and claim omnipotence.

Level Six. Even Touma knew what that signified.

"But that's impossible. It's only a hypothetical goal. A scientific and metaphysical ideal. There's no way-" Touma stopped that train of thought and pressed his palm against his forehead, ignoring the pain he felt throughout his entire body. "What do you mean by 'our confrontations'?

Misaka tilted her head. "Misaka and her sisters of course, Misaka answers truthfully. You met one of them yesterday, but Accelerator killed her, Misaka clarifies, seeking to prevent confusion."

"What?"

"Misaka confirms that a total of 9977 of Misaka's sisters have died at the hands of Accelerator, all to service the Level Six Shift Project, or the experiment, as it is colloquially known, Misaka explains. More than 10,000 more are scheduled to die"

Touma didn't say anything for a while after that, and simply stared at his hands which had gone slack in his lap. He finally said, "You're all clones, I'm presuming?"

"You would be correct, Misaka says."

Touma closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his face. "Nearly ten thousand dead so Accelerator could reach SYSTEM."

"A succinct summarization, Misaka opines."

"Is it worth it to sacrifice all of you to accomplish that?"

"Perhaps, Misaka dodges the question. It is ultimately irrelevant, Misaka says. All Misaka Sisters were born to die. There is no other purpose for Misaka."

Touma gaped at her, uncomprehending, as she sat with on him on that bench and stared at him, expressionless.

_She's already broken, it appears. Accelerator is simply scrapping her._

"Shut up," Touma said, shaking his head, unwilling to hear the voice any longer. He saw Misaka stare at him, shock etched on her face. "And I'm talking to you, too. What type of conclusion is that? 'Born to die.' Nobody is born to die. Nobody is born with duties or obligations. The only thing that can reasonably expected of us is to live, as long and successfully as we can, unburdened by the expectations and mistakes of the past." Touma grimaced as he said that last statement.

Misaka noticed. "It seems both you and Misaka lead an incomplete existence, Misaka observes."

Touma looked up into the night sky. "You're right on that count." He turned towards her. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you've decided to involve yourself in the Level Six Shift Project, Misaka explains. You tried to help Misaka, and even if that won't change anything, your participation in this matter compels Misaka to be honest with you, Misaka says as she studies your face."

Touma flinched. "I've dug myself so deep that there's no point in hiding the truth, huh." He shook his head. "Well thank you for telling me this, and… thank you for saving my life."

"Misaka saw how you tried to save hers, so Misaka felt it was only fair, Misaka says while shrugging."

Touma studied her carefully. "So what was your life like. I can't imagine anything that would explain what you've told me so far."

Misaka rested her back against the bench and closed her eyes. "Dark. Misaka's earliest memories are of darkness and voices whispering to her from within it, Misaka attempts to elucidate. All Misaka Sisters were outfitted with brain-computer interfaces while we were developing, and that is how the scientists educated and prepared Misaka for her eventual confrontation with Accelerator, Misaka says. Once Misaka reached pubescence they released from her cloning vat and drilled into Misaka the more practical aspects of the sciences, military training and strategy, as well as esper powers. Gave Misaka the reflexes and muscle memory to act on her knowledge, Misaka says."

"You keep talking as if you and your sisters are a singular entity."

"That is not an incorrect interpretation, Misaka confirms. We are joined in a wireless communication network that allows for seamless communication and access to others' memories and experiences, thus allowing Misaka to learn from other's mistakes, Misaka elaborates. It also allows Misaka to temporarily boost her calculations while in combat by utilizing other Misakas as parallel processors. One can view the entire network as a giant wetware supercomputer, if one is so inclined. Us Misakas refer to it as the Misaka Network when speaking colloquially, Misaka finishes."

Touma shut his eyes. "And you use it to better combat Accelerator?"

"Correct, Misaka confirms. Providing sufficient challenge to him is intended to supply the requisite stimuli for Accelerator to advance to level six, Misaka says."

"And the city is just fine with this plan?" Touma couldn't help his incredulous tone. This whole 'experiment' was monstrous, so obviously inhumane he couldn't imagine how anyone in authority could have approved of it.

"It was approved by the Board of Directors, Misaka shrugs. Though the original does not appear to approve from what little us Misakas have seen of her investigation."

Touma sat straight at that. "The 'original?' As in, the donor of your genetic material? Does she not know of this?" Touma waved his uninjured right arm.

"She has suspicions, but no knowledge of the actual project right now, Misaka confirms. But you met her, didn't you, Misaka says tilting her head in confusion. Mikoto Misaka appears to view you as a rival. Quite interesting to see you as the rival of #3, Misaka admits."

"What?" He never met her before in his life. Unless… Touma paled. She had to one of his pre-memory loss acquaintances, and one of the most powerful espers in the city judging by Misaka's (the clone, #9978 Touma reminded himself) comment. Seeing as they were 'rivals,' he probably had a significant number of interactions with her and Misaka #9978 probably knew that, and he just revealed he didn't know her out loud.

Touma pressed his palms to his face. He hadn't been thinking, and now it looked like he'd been caught. Though he was also curious as well. "You've been extremely honest with me, Misaka. Why?"

"You've involved yourself into this situation to the extent that keeping you ignorant would only be dangerous for both you and Misaka, Misaka says while shrugging her shoulders. Now, if Misaka can ask a question, why did you act unfamiliar with the original earlier, Misaka questions, glancing at you suspiciously."

Touma mulled over his answer for a moment before sighing and said, "Seeing as you've been remarkably honest with me, I might as well tell you. I have amnesia. A serious form as well, as all my personal memories beyond two weeks ago have been wiped away. Back then I presumably knew the original Misaka, but now… I might as well be a different person."

Misaka glanced at Touma for a few brief moments before hurriedly turning away when she was him glance back. She frowned, and all apathy and stoicism fled her face. She tightened her knuckles and rested them on her knees. The night was warm and Touma could see sweat trickle down her brow.

Touma glanced away. "We've shared our life stories now. We've laid all the important cards on the table, so what should we do." He glanced back at Misaka and furtively wiped the sweat from his face. His left arm ached and he felt a whisper of discontent echo inside his mind.

"We, Misaka asks, incredulous. Misaka believes the best course of action for you to take from here on is to simply leave this situation and pretend it never happened. Why do you wish to involve yourself, Misaka wonders, staring at you." Her frown disappeared and once more her face slipped into indifference and her eyes looked made of glass.

"I-" Touma stopped himself and glared at the night sky and ignored the pain in his chest, arms, and head. He counted the constellations of Ursa Major and Minor, Sagittarius and Andromeda. They were barely visible, little more than spots that pierced the bright darkness of the Academy City night. Touma wondered if he would ever see them in full in this city. He wondered if he ever saw them in full. "Because of what Accelerator and you said, that I'm already a participant, that I'm already involved. No matter who I pretend to be, that won't change."

_Death has a way of changing things._

"It isn't your fight, Misaka counters bluntly. You've involved yourself too far already, Misaka believes. Any more and you would intrude on our purpose and responsibility."

Touma tensed and glared at her. "Your responsibility? How is it your responsibility? How is it any of your responsibility? You gave no input and they decided your fate before you were even conscious. They trampled over your right as a human being and offered you up as a sacrifice to that monster!" Touma was yelling by that point. He hoped no one was looking. "What right do those project scientists and manager have to decide your fate, to decide who you die to and when?"

"What right do you have?"

The words were light, not possessing Misaka's normal intonations or idiosyncratic manner of speech. They were said with no special fervor or displeasure, yet Touma would have preferred if she had punched him. At least that he was familiar with. At least that he could understand.

At least with that he did not feel shame.

Misaka continued, staring at Touma as he sat, unmoving. "No matter if it is ethical or not, Misaka has no other course. It is the only thing we know, Misaka explains." She paused for a moment. "I don't want to die," she confessed, voice dropping to a whisper, "but the only way Misaka can prove that is to beat Accelerator. Without help. If you interfere again, Accelerator will kill you, and if you escape again, Misaka believes the project staff will drop their plan of nonintervention and have you murdered in way that suggests an accident or manslaughter. Nothing will change except for your death."

Touma leaned back and closed his eyes. He thought of Index, of what the Doctor told him, of what he had been told of his past. "You're probably right, but that's no excuse for inaction. This 'experiment' has to end somehow. Without anymore of you being killed." He thought of the clone he saw yesterday, the clone he had mistaken for this one.

The clone that was dead.

Misaka shifted and Touma opened his eyes. She held out her hand. "Then let Misaka offer you a deal. If the original ever becomes more involved in this project, which she will is she discovers its extent, she'll inevitably pursue her own course of action. If she meets a Misaka clone and decided such a thing, Misaka will contact you and let both of you work together, though she is probably more capable of ending this project than you. If she feels inclined to work with you, of course, Misaka affirms."

Touma glanced at her for a few moments, then at her outstretched hand, then sighed and grasped it with his own. They shook. "I can't do anything by myself, but she might be able to." He paused for a second and shuffled his shoulders. "Do you know anything about her personality?"

"Misaka believes the original is headstrong and prideful from what the scientists told her, Misaka explains. You were only a passing mention."

Touma sighed and stood up, grimacing as his breath constricted under his bruised ribs. "Then, we should go. If Accelerator is still looking by now, he's probably far away. We should probably go to the Seventh District hospital. I'm supposed to be there anyway"

Misaka nodded and stood up as well, nearly tripping.

_Even in revolution there remains constant phenomena._

#

"Misaka shall take her leave now, Misaka states." The hospital lobby was nearly deserted, with only a receptionist at the desk and a man sitting on one of the waiting chairs barely concealing their interest in the bruised and bloodied teenagers. Only the faint smell of antiseptic in the air provided company.

Touma did not immediately respond to her, instead looking in the direction of his room and thinking of how long it would take to heal his injuries, and whether that would occur before the battle between AIM and magic within his body killed him.

He shook his head; it was irrelevant. "Will you at least receive medical care, wherever you are going?"

"Yes, Misaka replies." She glanced away for a second, looking past the automatic doors deeper into the Seventh District. "As well as rescheduling Misaka's appointment with Accelerator. Misaka hopes the supervisors aren't too displeased with her, Misaka says."

Touma did not need to be educated in how such a result would be due to his interference. He knew where responsibility lay. "I'd say I'm sorry, but that would mean I'd regret involving myself, regret trying to help you." He stared at his feet, "You don't deserve this. No one deserves this."

"Perhaps not, but Misaka observes that humans rarely get what they feel they deserve, Misaka chides lightly." She tilted her head. "But you and Misaka are different. We must possess different expectations, as our perceptions are so twisted from the baseline. This is Misaka's fate, so she is resigned to it, but you were born in a different manner and raised in a different way. With how different we are, it is unreasonable to expect in others what we expect in ourselves."

Touma inhaled deeply and sighed. "Just promise me you'll live, won't you?"

Misaka's face was determined. Unwavering. "Misaka will try, Misaka promises." She turned and walked away, out of the hospital and into the city that hosted a cruel project. Touma wondered why. Why some of the best and brightest in the world would engineer a project that sacrifices innocent people simply to facilitate observation of the esper ideal.

Would they regret their decision when they realized they fed a boy blood until he became a god of violence, without restraint or empathy for any of them? Was godhood worth the price of human sacrifice on a scale unrivalled?

Touma turned and tried to ignore the fact that he would never see Misaka #9978 again.

#

The door swung open, gently tapping the wall as Touma entered his room. He raised his left arm, ignoring the pulsating feel of blood in it as his head and heart hammered, blocking out the dawn rays from entering his eyes. With a click of his tongue, he reached out and raised the wavelength of visible light entering the room until it was reduced to the infrared spectrum.

He regretted this decision when a moment later he gave a strangled gasp as his body spasmed, blood once more pouring from his mouth and nose. He collapsed onto the laminated floor, knees on the ground, arms supporting him, and breathing heavily. His concentration broken, the room brightened once more.

"Touma?"

Index was sitting in a chair next to his bed. Her eyes were unfocused and her headwear was bundled behind her head, forming a pillow. She had dark spots under her eyes. A second later,they widened.

"Touma, where were you? I've been sitting here half the night and-" She paused as she stood up and took a good look at him. "My God Touma, what happened to you?" She stuttered as she spoke, gaping at Touma.

Touma pushed himself up to his feet, nearly tripping, and ignored the spike that lodged into his brain. "I've been out, took a walk. My body relapsed when I entered the room." He closed his eyes once his head was once more suffused in the bright early morning light.

Index frowned as she looked up at Touma. Her eyes were red. "Why did you walk out in the middle of the night? Why are you getting worse now?" Her tone was quiet and tremulous.

Touma ignored her questions and asked, "Where is Himegami?"

"She's at the dorm. She left an hour ago." Index deflated and sat back down in her chair, sighing. "Touma, why are you keeping things from me? Why is all of this happening?"

The light in the room became bearable. Touma sat on his bed, facing away from the window, facing Index. "Because I don't know why. Not completely, at least." His Doctor did not know either, and simply said he assumed that Touma had been targeted by a magic cabal, or simply had a charm, curse, or enchantment cast on him by accident or someone had cast it accidentally. It might have happened while he still had his Imagine Breaker and was simply manifesting now without Imagine Breaker's nullifying presence.

The how and why was irrelevant. The conclusion was inescapable. Touma had learned to accept his fate.

_Yet you would deny that to the 10,000 clones. Claim that their fate is not set in stone yet claim within yourself you can not escape your own._

"Shut up!" Touma's yelled escaped the room and reverberated throughout the entire floor he resided in. Index paled and shrunk back. "Not you, Index. I wasn't talking to you."

"Yet you had to be talking to someone. Someone you're more inclined to respond to than me." Her green eyes did not blink and her stare did not break. "Touma, I want to help you. Why won't you let me?"

_'Because I don't want you to suffer,'_ Touma thought. _'I don't want you to watch me die.'_ But he felt compelled to respond, to soften the guilt he found rising in his stomach. "Because its something that only I can deal with." The reassurance was forced and Index frowned. His head hurting, Touma closed his eyes and thought of what to say.

_"Because you've decided to involve yourself in the Level Six Shift Project, Misaka explains. You tried to help Misaka, and even if that won't change anything, your participation in this matter compels Misaka to be honest with you."_

Touma opened his eyes. "Index, you can use magic, can't you?"

Index froze for a second, gaping, before slowly shaking her head. "No, the Church taught me I was unable to-"

"The Church that lied to you? Tried to destroy your identity? You might as well try. You have a library in your head to help explain things, don't you. If you learned this, you could help both me and you easily."

Index was silent for a few moments, then she nodded and stood up. "All right, I'll try. I'll go back to the dorm." She glared at Touma. "You better promise me you'll stay put while I'm gone, okay?"

Touma chuckled and said, "I promise."_ 'I'm not in a state to move, anyway.'_

_You try to help her, yet deprive her of the most critical information of all. You're excellent at doing things in half-measures, aren't you Touma?_

Touma grimaced and inhaled deeply, before lying down on the bed while Index stood and walked away._ 'So easily distracted.'_ "Index, one more thing." She turned to him on the threshold between the hospital and his room. "I lied. I did forget."

Index looked confused for a few seconds, then she teared up, grit her teeth, and glared at Touma. For a moment, Touma was afraid she'll fly into a rage, but she simply turned and marched away, slamming the door behind her.

_Only now do you choose to be honest? I expected-_

_'I've tied up the loose ends as much as I could. Its all in luck's hands now.'_ Touma thought before sitting up and saying, "So who the hell are you? Its rude to not to introduce yourself."

The room was silent for a moment, before Touma heard a laugh resound from everywhere around him and within him. _So you decide now to try and bridge us, huh. It's late. You won't last for more than a few days if you keep on relapsing._

"I hope you aren't concerned, seeing as you're the reason I'm ill in the first place."

_And how did you determine that?_

"I'm dying because of exposure to magic, you're obviously supernatural, and I doubt a telepath is trying to communicate with me."

Touma heard the voice scoff._ Don't confuse me with that mockery of divinity you call magic. I exist outside of your system of magicians and espers. I'm a foreigner, alien to your world._

Alien. The way the voice intoned that word implied a far more primordial usage of 'alien' than just extraterrestrial life. Far deeper and twisted. Touma held his breath.

_I am not a phenomenon related to the existence of espers, either. Not a telepath conversing with you, implanting thoughts into your mind, firing neurons in a pattern appropriate enough to emulate speech. I speak to you on a baser level._

"What are you?" Touma voice came little more than a croak and he pressed his back against the bed's headboard.

In an instant, sight, sounds, smells, and other stimuli Touma could not even pretend to understand inundated his thoughts and memories. He was drowned and burned alive, broken and healed, learning and forgetting. A thousand lifetimes coursed through his brain, all of them forgotten as soon as they progressed, all of them incomprehensible, eldritch, unrememberable.

Alien.

After what felt like millenia compressed in a second, or a second stretched into millenia, Touma found himself prone on the floor, bed to his left, body rigid, mind stagnant. He was too tired to feel pain, too detached to feel anything.

_Now you understand, in a way words could never clarify or reveal, in a way now fundamental to your being. I am a wanderer and you are my sanctuary. Without one such as you, I am closed from the world. I can not comprehend it, so I can't interact with it, unless I get acquainted with one whose mind I share._

Touma managed to form one coherent thought, 'How long?'

_Since you were born. Before you were even gifted with that weapon. But if you die, I must move, and such an action is hard for me. Taxing. I propose a deal, instead._

Touma pulled himself up and collapsed on the bed, exhausted. 'What?'

_You can escape your death, at the price of temporary agony. My power is to nullify, suppress. Destroy. It is how you are still alive, as I've been limiting the damage done to your body ever since you lost that weapon. But it is only a temporary solution, limited at best. Fortunately, I have an alternative. I will suppress your AIM completely, and while that will harm you in the short-term, it will save you in the long-term._

'But my ability...'

_If you are that desperate for it, I can temporarily remove the suppression, so long as you do not kill yourself while using it. It is a filthy thing, but I suppose I will endure it so long as you live. Do we have an accord?_

Touma thought of Index, of Accelerator and the Misaka Clones, of Komoe and Tsuchimikado and Pierce, and whispered, "Yes."

* * *

Well, that's the conclusion to Touma's personal difficulties, at least temporarily, and it marks the full transition to the Sisters Arc. The Invisible Thing finally makes its appearance, and I decided to spin its relationship with Touma in such a way that suggests a 'deal with the devil' type of situation. Also, development for Index.

Next chapter should be up Feb. 15th.


	5. Acclimation

I do not own nor claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu no Index.

* * *

"Yeah, Dad, I'm doing all right. Ran into a fluke accident the other day, though I got better. The hospital staff treated me well." Touma waited for a response, glancing around his hospital room. The sun was still low in the sky, and he hoped he had hidden the dust well enough. "Yes, the accident was related to Academy City's developmental programs, but it isn't exactly their fault. How are you?" Touma flexed one of his arms. No more aches. Good. "Mom isn't there, huh. Well, I'll see you later, then." Touma ended the call and placed his cell phone in one of his pockets.

_Not Academy City's fault?_

"Indeed, it's mostly yours," Touma said softly as he ran a hand through his hair, fingers shaking. It was starting to lose its spikiness, but he did not particularly care at the moment. Too many things demanded his attention. "Besides, even if it was, I wouldn't tell them. I don't know how'll they react."

_You could always tell them about the Level Six Shift Project. I'm sure their desperate pleading for you to stop what you're doing will at least make you reconsider your involvement._

"Even if I want to stop, which I don't, I promised Misaka I would try to help if Mikoto Misaka got involved."

_A promise to a girl who is most likely dead._

Touma inhaled and exhaled very deeply, one, two, three times, and sighed. "I don't know why I even bother responding to you."

_Why, Touma, isn't it obvious? Out of all your friends, family, or acquaintances, I'm the only one who actually understands you. You need me as a foil, otherwise you'll lose sight of yourself._

Touma shook his head and sighed. He considered walking out and getting some food in the cafeteria, maybe thank the Doctor for giving him his parent's phone number once more on the way, then considering what to do._ 'I'm going to be released today, most likely,'_ Touma thought._ 'I'm going to have to talk to Index soon.'_ Touma was in a fickle mood when he told her the truth, and he could not tell if it was the right decision yet. Only when he saw her he would determine that. He wondered if she told Himegami as well.

Touma gave his room a cursory inspection. The night he struck a deal with that Alien was interesting to say the least, and he hoped the hospital staff did not notice the chair that Index left was missing. Or the dust that remained of it on the floor.

Thinking of that night made Touma flinch. That Alien's presence scared him on a very fundamental level, and Touma honestly preferred it staying in his mind. Whispers were harmless; physical manifestations were not.

#

It was always dark inside the Windowless Building. Aleister did not know if he simply liked it that way or if it comforted him on some primeval level, acting as a screen covering his actions from the world. Aleister did not care about how he felt however, but he was somewhat amused when he saw the tell-tale signs of Laura Stuart fidgeting at an almost imperceptible level. Normally it would go unnoticed, but Aleister was a practiced observer. Nothing escaped his view.

"Interesting idea, Aleister. Imagine Breaker had intervened in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum situation to an excessive extent and to hear such a nuisance has gone rogue as well. Oh my! Something like that should be dealt with appropriately." She smiled as she said that, long blond hair swaying behind her, her blue eyes closing. She was residing in some church or another in the United Kingdom, filmed for this video conference. She looked to be in her early twenties, sweet, naive, and innocent.

Aleister was not fooled by her demeanour for even a second. "I hope my report to you was sufficiently comprehensive," he said, voice soft, concentrating as he floated in his life support tank. It was never a good diplomatic environment, though Aleister thought it sometimes instilled a nervous fear in those dealing with him.

"Very much so, and I agree that such a potential threat should not be left unsupervised. Anything Imagine Breaker touches goes awry, it seems. A dangerous power. Hopefully you don't feel too bad for losing your favorite toy." Her smile, if possible, widened even further. "Though I'm afraid to say that we are unable to cooperate with you on this matter."

"What?" Aleister was surprised. He did not like feeling surprised. "Why?" While a magical faction such as Necessarius was naturally ideologically opposed to scientific institutions such as Academy City, Aleister thought Laura was versed enough in realpolitik to ignore that divide. She had in the past.

"Well, we can't ally on this matter openly, at least. The Roman Catholic Church has approached us with offers of alliance, at least the Necessarius component of the Church of England, and it would be most disadvantageous to to associate with you when they'd raise such a fuss about it."

Aleister was thankful for his stoic exterior then. He did not want to share any information without the the utmost of care and consideration. "Who else have they approached?"

"Some of the Episcopal factions and the Orthodox Communion. The Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople was quite receptive to the idea. Apparently he's quite interested in mending the schism, and wants to convince the various magical factions associated with the communion to support the alliance, despite not being a magician himself. Who knows what will happen?" She opened her eyes then. "So what will you do, Mr. Crowley?"

Aleister ignored her for the moment, trying to determine the Catholic's motivations. Certainly this move was only known to the magicians and higher-ups. Most members were in the dark about the existence of magic in general. But what precipitated this move? The Church had made some efforts in the past to reunify with some of the disparate sects, but nothing came of it. Now they were extending the olive branch, and the Anglicans and Orthodoxes were receptive of it. Either their new Pope or some diplomat of theirs was quite persuasive, or they had one hell of a bargaining chip.

Fear coursed through Aleister for a second as he considered the possibility they have acquired Imagine Breaker for themselves, but that was unlikely. They would not recognize it for what it was and even if they did they would reject it. If anyone had control over it right now, it was the woman waiting for him impatiently. She was savvy enough to use it to gain leverage with other factions.

"Academy City will remain neutral in conflicts of religion or magic," Aleister said, "As we always have."

"As you claim your city had. Still, I honestly find the lack of evidence the most disturbing. A city of the most gifted intellectuals in a world where the masquerade is being loosened day-by-day doesn't notice a thing? I think that's indicative of a cover-up more than downright neutrality or disinterest. I would have expected a peep, but it seems like some deliberate suppression in in place." Laura's pleasant countenance never wavered.

Aleister simply stared. "While one can form conjecture based on a lack of evidence, a theory remains out of grasp. Regardless of your opinion you will find Academy City quite uninvolved in the affairs of your world. Even I can not manage of cover-up of the magnitude of what you are suggesting. Magic's secret is only kept in place by the ignorance and derision of the general population, a sentiment shared by the inhabitants of my city."

Laura tittered. "Are our worlds truly that separate, though? Just because we share mutual fear and distrust does not mean we are so dissimilar. I take it your are familiar with the Thaumaturgical Heresy?"

"A hypothesis which states the the miracles of saints and other important religious figures were not necessarily cases of divine intervention but examples of magic under the guise of religious purpose. It is from genuine belief that these acts are divine in nature that empowers them to the extent that they can be use as a base for the application of Idol Theory."

A smirk bisected Laura's face. "I see the decades haven't worn away at your knowledge of our world. Indeed, perhaps you even used such a conclusion in the organization of your city. Instead of simply gathering the natural espers, those gemstones in accordance to your city's nomenclature, you are a creating a host of artificial ones. Creating synthetic miracle workers, letting the world fear and revere you under a systemic process of supernatural imbuing. Perhaps one day the world will look upon the children of your city as we look upon our saints and prophets."

Through the orange tint of his life support liquid, one could almost imagine they saw Aleister Crowley frown. "Maybe that will happen one day. If it does, it will not be my intent. Such things are of no concern to me."

Laura laughed. "We shall see. In any event, if my superiors have a change of heart or the winds blow more favorably, perhaps we will hash out an agreement. Until then, it would be disadvantageous to contact each other. So long." Her video feed was cut.

Laura left Aleister with much to think about. Fortunately, over his decades of isolation he had gotten quite good at thinking. The Roman Catholic Church's agenda was worrisome, though not necessarily intolerable. Aleister knew how to mitigate the damage, at least. And if worse came to worse...Aleister noted to himself to check the Imaginary Number District soon. It would not due if _she_ was disrupted by the absence of Imagine Breaker.

He gave no heed to Laura's closing remarks, however. As per usual, her view was slanted and twisted. She never could properly perceive the bigger picture, and naturally assumed everything backwards. He was not trying to pretend to the power of divinity.

He was going to replicate it.

#

Touma glanced out the window. It seemed to be noon now. He sighed, put away the book he was reading, and stretched, back creaking. He considered getting lunch. He also considered calling Index.

_In my humble opinion as an inhuman entity, I would say that is a bad idea at this point in time._

For once, Touma found himself in agreement with the invisible thing in the back of his mind. Lunch it was.

The corridors of the hospital blended into one the longer Touma traveled them, combining into one neat, homogeneous whole. All he saw were patients, visitors, medical equipment, endless lines of doors, and the now familiar faces of various staff. Despite that, Touma found within himself the ability to navigate through what felt like an endless maze to the cafeteria. He did not want to have meals delivered to him. He was well enough to obtain them himself,he told the doctor, who Touma was beginning to think was the true head of the hospital.

Said doctor stood near the entrance to the cafeteria. He was standing awkwardly, trying to ignore the pedestrian traffic around him, eyes scanning the crowd. Once he saw Touma, he beckoned him to him.

"While I'm considering never releasing you again from our fine institution," the Doctor said as Touma stopped in front of him, "I'm forced to admit you are actually perfectly healthy right now, and are free to leave." The Doctor shot Touma a considering gaze. "Hopefully you won't involve yourself in situations of preternatural nature anymore. Or any situation that could be conceived as harmful, but I feel my words fall on deaf ears in that case.

Touma looked at his feet. "Even if I wanted to back out, I made a promise. I can't break it on a whim.

The Doctor glanced away. "A promise, huh. I suppose I can not begrudge you on that. Promises and oaths are not things meant to be casually discarded." He glared at Touma. "On that note, will you at least promise me to try and stay healthy. It would not do if the hospital became your permanent residence, young man."

Touma flinched, "All right, I'll try." Touma turned away from the Doctor and the cafeteria and walked up to his room, ignoring his growing hunger.

_Not even your savior is capable of persuading your foolishness to end. I suppose I will have to tolerate it for now._

_'You could always help me. Give me a taste of the power I saw that night.'_

_Even if I wanted to, I could not. My power is now dedicated to suppressing your AIM. That chair disintegrating was merely a byproduct of the process._

Touma shrugged, ignoring the odd looks he was receiving as he walked. _'All right. I'll have to deal with that. I'll just get my things, leave, and avoid my dorm for a while. It's probably dangerous to be in the same room with Index right now._'

_For once we are in agreement._

#

Motoharu Tsuchimikado sat in his dorm room, idly browsing through a variety of documents and photos, smiling occasionally at some of them, trying to distract himself from the task he had taken upon himself to perform, swore under secrecy to never reveal, and negotiated under a veil of darkness and silence in a forgotten room distant from the far-seeing eye of Aleister Crowley. It was, Motoharu was afraid to admit, a task of personal nature, one developed within the framework of his own fallible emotions rather than proper logical analysis.

While Motoharu took upon the mantle of a backstabber with some distorted measure of pride and sometimes reveled in the power he had to influence the development of power in the worlds of science and magic, he could not ignore his friendship with Touma Kamijou, and took it upon himself to be Laura's investigator in the disappearance of Imagine Breaker.

Aleister only wanted him to observe Touma. The irritating bastard was a proponent of the notion that the less excessive information an agent had, the less likely they were to be liability. There was some sense in that, though Aleister's intention was dashed when Laura Stuart herself contacted Motoharu to investigate the disappearance of Imagine Breaker. Motoharu then simply applied the process of deduction.

He wondered if Aleister knew, or even cared that Motoharu stumbled upon a truth he tried to bury within the byzantine layers of Academy City life and the fact Laura Stuart was taking matters into her own hands. Whatever. At least they were both paying him a handsome sum of money.

Hence why he was performing his preliminary investigation within the confines of his own dorm room instead of a more secure location. He would only be caught by surveillance, and Aleister had effective control over that section of Academy City's expansive technological infrastructure. And besides, he did not find it within himself to care if Aleister's little secret got released and attracted bloodhounds. The less centralized the Academy City's administration was, the more holes Motoharu could find to hide in and operate from.

He was not as laissez-faire in his operations for the venerable Archbishop Stuart, however. She had leverage on Motoharu Aleister could only dream of possessing. Of course, such was balanced by the fact that he was effectively openly acting as a spy within Aleister's own city.

Motoharu brushed his fingertips across the surface of one of the surveillance photos Aleister deigned to gift him. It depicted a bleeding Touma marching towards a green-haired man in an expensive suit within an expansive office. His arm lay discarded nearer to the entrance, and one of Motoharu's coworkers, Stiyl Magnus, lay draped across the ceiling, organs splattered across the glass. Motoharu paused only for a moment when he saw that.

A shrine maiden (Aisa Himegami, Motoharu reminded himself) was prone on the floor, and the Index Librorum Prohibitorum lay on a desk behind the green-haired, suit-wearing man, as if prepared for a ritualistic human sacrifice. Perhaps she was. Motoharu could not find it within him to care about such details.

Regardless, the disappearance occurred in that room. Motoharu conjectured it happened when Touma's right arm was severed. When it exited its vessel after that event is both uncertain and irrelevant, Motoharu guessed. All that mattered was that it left in a range of the hour between Touma's injury and the reattachment of his arm. Now Motoharu had to determine why and how it left its position in Touma's right hand.

Did the alchemist consciously remove it? Did the de-attachment of Touma's arm also sever some connection Imagine Breaker shared with Touma? Did Imagine Breaker somehow leave Touma on its own initiative, implying some sort of sentience or conscious thought?

Aleister probably knew, but his love of secrets outweighed the commitment he showed toward his agents. He would send them on an ultimately fruitless chase only so they could serve some nebulous purpose toward his overarching goal. That comprised part of the reason Motoharu disliked working for the man; complexity addictions made his job even more difficult.

Assume the supernatural removal of Touma's ability was magical in nature. That implies that a group of magicians managed entry to the city for a purpose as of yet unknown, its relation to Imagine Breaker unknown. Either they disguised themselves and obtained fake identities, allowing them to enter the city in a mundane manner, or they used magic to manipulate the border guards or bypass city security altogether. Aleister had made no mention of forced entry recently, so Motoharu discarded that notion. For now, at least.

Given Laura's severity when she issued his orders, he assumed she expected him to do utmost to obtain information for her. Or receive the knife. After this, he decided, he'll take a vacation with his little sister. Maika would likely be delighted.

_'If,'_ Motoharu thought,_ 'I get out of this mess unscathed. With Touma recently, everything seems to go to shit.'_

Whatever. He would deal with the situation as it arises. One did not earn a reputation as a backstabber without having resourcefulness and luck. And, of course, a healthy dose of pure skill.

With a flourish, Motoharu cleared his coffee table of loose stacks of paper and photos, carefully compiling them into a folder he kept hidden where Maika would not find. He walked near his bed, rifled through a shelf containing stationery, and pulled out a tiny bit of colored paper.

"Time for a magic trick."

Motoharu tore through the paper, ripping and bending it, contorting its shape until he nodded with satisfaction and arrayed it across his coffee table, forming a rough circle.

Onmyōdō was a curious art. Traditional Japanese divination influenced by Chinese cosmology, philosophy, and elements, unifying Taoist metaphysics and Shinto and Buddhist belief, culture, and practices. Once its practice was monopolized by the Imperial government until it was banned as superstition, leading to many practicing it in secrecy until this very day. The perfect type of environment for someone like Motoharu Tsuchimikado to develop in.

The Divination Circle Array he created was one of its simpler applications. It merely alerted one to the presence of magic in the nearby area and, if possible, point out the direction of the phenomena.

Simplicity did not lend way to relief on Motoharu's part. Unfortunately, this was the most expedient method of searching the area for magic. Laura was paying for this later. Slowly, concentrating, Motoharu sat down and, breathing deeply, and created magical energy, tearing and converting it from what scientists might term the accumulated biochemical energy of his body. Magical energy was known by many names across many cultures, including the Polynesian mana, the Chinese Ki, the Indian Chakra. All different interpretation of the same fundamental concept, the process that allowed even those ungifted to rise above the human limitations.

When Motoharu built up a significant enough pool of mana, he pushed most of it onto his circle. A moment later he felt several of his near-surface capillaries ruptured and an intense pain tore through his body, convulsing up and down his arms, racing down his spines, pressing against his lungs until he could barely breathe. Motoharu ignored it.

The Divination Circle Array eagerly absorbed his mana, glowed, and completed the spell its shape and composition prepared it for. Motoharu felt a tug in the back of his neck, pulling him somewhere...to his right and seven meters away?

Motoharu instantly leapt up, disrupting his divination, breath catching as his body convulsed. A second later he caught himself, rushed to the kitchen, picked up a knife, and rushed out of his door, an incantation on his lips.

He marched to Touma's door and, hiding the knife behind his back, knocked. A few moments later, it opened and Motoharu saw a flash of blue-white hair and green eyes.

"Oh, you're Touma's friend," Index Librorum Prohibitorum said, frowning. "That annoying blonde and sunglasses-wearing one. What do you want? Are you bleeding?"

Motoharu scanned the space behind her, saw Aisa Himegami walking towards them, and focused on Index. "Somewhat. I had an incident earlier with a knife. I was simply curious about when Touma was coming back. We are friends, after all."

Index flinched, and Himegami spoke up from behind her. "We don't know when he is coming back. I didn't even realize he was back in the hospital after his ...escapade, until Index told me a few days ago. She's…" Himegami glanced at Index's back. "Nervous about meeting him right now, and so am I, to be honest. He nearly died from some strange illness a few days ago."

Index glared back at Himegami. "I'm not nervous. I'm angry. Touma is such a jerk! I won't meet him. He has to meet me!"

"Really," Motoharu said, smiling as Index and Himegami turned to face him. "Well, Touma's a tough guy. He'll get better. Though, as always, his love life is always so interesting." Index flushed and glared at Motoharu, and Himegami sighed. "So what have you been doing to occupy your time, Ms. Index?"

Index grit her teeth. "None of your business!" A second later, the door slammed shut. Motoharu chuckled and walked away, his tongue stilling, grip loosening. That could have gone badly very quickly. Luckily it proved more amusing than anything else.

Closing his door behind him, Motoharu twirled the knife in his fingers. He wondered how much Laura would be willing to pay for what he just observed, to have the knowledge that her favorite toy was falling even further from her grasp. He wondered how she would react when he told her Index was starting to realize her potential.

Oh, the girl attempted to hide the fact she was practicing magic, but his spell and the reaction she displayed when he inquired about her activities all formed some rather compelling evidence. He decided to not tell Laura. She did not charge him with investigating her former tools after all, and Motoharu was feeling a tiny bit spiteful.

Though his cheer faded as he realized they seemed legitimately ignorant regarding Touma's whereabouts. Aleister mentioned Touma had recently involved himself in one of Academy City's… darker projects. From what hospital records Motoharu was able to procure with his clearance, it appeared Touma received injuries three days ago, likely around early morning.

Motoharu sighed and grabbed some a pen and paper. He would write a note for Maika, explain how he was so sorry but he had to leave the dorm that evening due to educational concerns.

Motoharu could only hope she did not hate him after the dust had settled.

#

Once more, Touma found himself wandering the streets, walking along a concrete path next to a copse of trees, significantly higher in elevation than most of the city . No more pain, though, and he found it within himself to appreciate the scenic beauty the Academy City skyline provided. He found that the sun was setting, and sighed. He would have to leave for his dorm.

_Well, you are going to have to deal with Index eventually._

_'You're the one who advised me to stay away from her!'_

_Situations change, and I've had some time to think. Besides, you're going to have to visit your dorm sooner rather than later._

He walked down and started threading his way to the Seventh District. Perhaps he could catch one of Academy City's buses so he could make it home before nightfall. Just as he spotted a bus spot and, checking its route information, determined he would ride it home, he felt something vibrating in his pocket. Reaching his hand into it, Touma pulled out his phone.

The number displayed on it was unfamiliar. After nervously glancing around and wondering if he should ignore it, he finally decided to answer the call.

"The original has learned the truth, Misaka confirms."

* * *

Author's Note:

Well, I lied. It turns out I've releasing this on the thirteenth, not the the fifteenth like I promised. I hope you guys aren't too disappointed. Also, I hope the cliff hanger doesn't inspire all of you to track down and murder me. It felt natural to end the chapter at that point, I swear!

So now I've formally introduced the magic side to the main plot, hopefully not horribly mangling up Tsuchimikado's personality in the process, and we're on the cusp of the Sisters Arc proper. Tried to follow the canon timeline on this one, so this chapter, chronologically, takes place on August 15th, which I believe is when Mikito meets Misaka #9982.

Also I completely made up that 'Thaumaturgical Heresy' fluff. I felt it had some symbolic resonance and it felt appropriate to the Raildex universe.

Next chapter should be up Feb. 20th/21st.


	6. Persuasion

I do not own or claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu No Index.

* * *

Cars rushed by, horns blared, people yelled, lights shifted. Touma ran through Academy City's equivalent of rush hour, the hour before mandatory curfew, and gasped for air. Angered and dismayed murmurs and shouts followed him as he disobeyed most pedestrian traffic regulations in the city, cutting across busy intersections and nearly colliding several times with moving vehicles and people. He kept his eyes out for passing street signs and landmarks, any point of reference that could direct him.

The Misaka clone that called him did not reveal how she obtained his number, merely informed him of an approximate area where one of her 'sisters' was meeting with Mikoto Misaka.

It was only ever a business deal, Touma realized as he continued his mad dash. Bait to distract him, keep him from getting too uppity or emotionally invested. Misaka #9978 even stipulated that there was to be no intervention on his part, at least until he contacted Mikoto and was presumably working with her. He did not know if she had wanted to help him or rid herself of a distraction.

_It could be both or neither. It does not matter. You are here now, to act. While it is idiotic and dangerous, you have committed yourself to this task, and you should not be distracted by the peculiarities of the past._

Skidding across the ground, Touma turned and raced down another street, this one containing traffic far below the Academy City average. _'Should I call Anti-Skill just in case something goes wrong?'_ Touma thought.

_They would only be killed by Accelerator._

Touma nearly tripped, but managed to recapture his stride. _'I wasn't directing that to you-, how…?'_

_I thought we already reviewed this. I inhabit your very being. Your thoughts might as well be spoken words. Even if you're whispering, I can sometimes overhear._

Touma's heartbeat quickened. His body shivered a moment before settling and Touma took a deep breath._ 'We're going to discuss this and a lot of other things later.'_

_I look forward to that conversation._

The sunset gouged and bloodied the sky, casting harsh shadows across the streets and their attendant buildings. Night was falling. That Frog-Faced Doctor warned him to be careful, and he faintly remembered the sensation of returning to a world quite like this one a few nights ago. Why should he not call Anti-Skill? They are trained professionals, specialized in combating Espers. No doubt many of them would be as horrified by the Level Six Shift Project as he was. Would they believe him? How would they act when their superiors set them upon a path of nonintervention? How capable were they of handling Accelerator?

More capable than he was, at least. Touma's fingers reached into his pocket and clenched the edge of his phone. All he had was a promise.

Perhaps that was enough. Those red eyes, those that promised murder, pain, unbridled suffering. Anything was sufficient as long as it could resist that.

A shadow moved. Approximately the shape and composition of a van moved only a block away.

What looked like twins appeared behind it.

#

Touma proved difficult to track. Motoharu was not particularly surprised. Even after spending a few days in a hospital, Touma proved to be one hell of a runner, easily outpacing Motoharu as he sped through the city, nearly causing several traffic accidents in the process. Motoharu expected that; with Touma, things often seemed to explode, both literally and figuratively.

Though he less expected Touma's flight making him feel wheezy in his pursuit. Motoharu was injured, sure, but that level of stamina was ridiculous. Motoharu felt it prudent to remind Touma to join the track team when they next met, provided the poor teen did not get exploded, skewered, or something equally stupid.

Motoharu still took pride in the fact he could still probably kick Touma's ass if they ever got into another fight. That made him feel a little better as he stood gasping for breath in the shadow of an alleyway, watching Touma as he stopped running and observe some event outside of Motoharu's currently inhibited visual range.

He pushed himself forward, wishing he had gotten x-ray vision instead of Auto-Rebirth. Yeah, he would likely be dead by now, but it would be more thematically suiting at least. And more convenient in this one particular incident that is unlikely to be reproduced in the near-future.

He peeked around the corner and his heart stopped. There were two girls, likely in their early teens. Brown hair and eyes, Tokiwadai middle school uniform. Both were currently consuming what appeared to be ice cream. Flavor unknown, irrelevant. Eyes widening in accordance to the approach of Touma Kamijou. Group composition, likely Mikoto Misaka and one of her clones.

Motoharu immediately grasped his phone. Such a situation should not develop unimpeded. Perhaps Touma would thank him later when he learned the truth.

#

Touma examined Mikoto Misaka. She was different from #9978, different from the clone that stood beside her. They looked identical, physically, but their disposition and nature were easily distinguishable in a moment's observation. The Misaka clone was subdued, stoic, face carefully restrained. Mikoto Misaka proved to be the opposite.

"You!" Mikoto said, face twitching. "Of course it has to be you. This day just had to get worse." Electric currents danced around her head.

"So you're finally here, Misaka says." The clone looked into his eyes briefly and Touma saw something flicker within hers. "So we can now proceed with the plan reasonably, Misaka states with relief. This Misaka is number 9982, she clarifies."

Mikoto glanced at the 9982, then back at Touma. Her face stopped twitching and settled into a frown. "You know her? You of all people are involved in…" She waved her arm. "this?" The currents strengthened. "How-?"

"He saved one of us before, Misaka says, defending him. It was agreed that you two should meet. Though, unfortunately, 9978 has passed on."

Touma's heart stopped. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

"Agreed that the two of us should meet." Mikoto stared at Touma. "You were always getting involved with hero antics before as well. But that was all mundane and inconsequential. That had nothing to do with something like this!" Her voice grew harsher. "What is going on? He 'saved' you? I know they were designed to be military clones, but it does not sound like that is the case anymore."

"They're not part of any Academy City military group," Touma said, dazed, voice soft. "You know Accelerator?"

Mikoto nodded, motion hesitant.

"They want to advance him to Level Six, and he is going to accomplish it by killing 20,000 of your clones. 10,000 are already dead." His voice quivered for a moment before resolving.

Misaka #9982 nodded.

Mikoto was silent for a moment, eyes widening. They then sharpened. "What kind of sick joke-"

The approaching sirens silenced her.

Touma jumped slightly. Was there some crime being performed nearby? The area was deserted, and it sounded like Anti-Skill vehicles were driving down the very street they bordered.

The sirens intensified. Definitely coming closer.

Touma tensed and, after a moment of indecision, sprinted away, weaving into a nearby alleyway, dodging past some blonde student who was hanging by the entrance. Touma did not take a second glance. Touma knew that it was unlikely that Anti-Skill was after him, and that abruptly sprinting away was highly suspicious, but he could not help it. He did not want to be involved in any situation that demanded their involvement and he did not want the Powers that Be having direct evidence of him attempting to dismantle the Level Six Shift Project.

Hopefully there were no cameras or audio devices in the area.

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him

#

Aiho Yomikawa frowned as she braked the Anti-Skill van, sliding it into a stop next to a curve, in the shadow of several large apartment buildings. She tapped her ear; this was, she rechecked the GPS as Tessou Tsuzuri fidgeted and peeked out the window, the correct location. A witness reported a drug deal gone bad, already involving casualties judging by the hushed, tense tone that spoke to the Anti-Skill Emergency Responder. Yet there was no one in sight, or any sign of violence or damage to the surrounding area.

Suspicious.

"Tessou," Aiho said, voice gruff, staring at Tessou as she waved her head around, green hair flailing, and shakily readjusted her glasses. "Warn the other officers there might be a potential ambush. Keep your eyes peeled." Aiho reached for her belt and pulled out her gun, shifting the safety off and cradled it close to her chest, barrel pointing to the sky, glancing around her vehicle as Tessou rushed to comply with her orders.

Silence. They waited for several minutes in their vans, tense, anxious, but nothing happened. Aiho sighed and clicked the safety back on, reclining against the back of her seat. "Looks like we have a prank call, or our mysterious drug dealers are of a very subtle sort. Check the phone that reported the case, Tessou."

"Yes, yes, sure," Tessou said, taking a tablet out from a bag and began searching through the Anti-Skill database.

Aiho immediately went to the on-board computer and checked the security logs of the area. Any surveillance footage caught by public cameras were uploaded onto a city-wide security network, with Anti-Skill possessing immediate access to most recorded data. She checked the recorded footage of the past half-hour in the area and studied it as Tessou complained about not being able to find a phone number and contacted the other Anti-Skill officers.

Three teenagers, one male, two female, stood conversing in the area a few minutes ago. One of them looked somewhat familiar, but she dismissed that for the moment. Whatever their discussion, it seemed emotionally tense, particularly from one party, The group broke up and split a minute before Anti-Skill arrived on scene, and there appeared to be no actual conflict or exchange of items between them. Probably not an actual drug deal.

Though there was something off about the scene. The male ran off abruptly after observing the area in response to some stimuli. Likely that stimuli was the vans' sirens. Suspicious. And there was something… off about the girls. Looking closer, while cursing the camera's low resolution under her breath, Aiho noted that the two females looked very similar, appearance wise. Almost completely identical, in fact.

Scratching her head, Aiho considered that there had been reports of a strange girl wearing military equipment appearing across the city, often being reported in two separate places at the same time. Members higher up in the Anti-Skill hierarchy dismissed such claims and subsequent requests to investigate, deriding the whole affair as impossible. Maybe they were right.

"Aiho?" Tessou's quiet voice broke Aiho's ruminations, tearing her face from the monitor to Tessou. Her eyes were wide. "There's been an incident in the Seventeenth District. Apparently there have been reports of a shootout between some Skill-Outs factions. We've been ordered to investigate and pacify the area immediately."

Aiho clicked her tongue. "Fine. Let's move immediately. Request that forensics investigate this area later." Tessou nodded and absorbed herself with her tablet once more, and Aiho radioed and informed the other vehicles of the situation. Soon, they were all on the road to the Seventeenth district.

Inside, Aiho promised herself to investigate the matter further. On her own private time of course, no need wasting Anti-Skill resources. The matter, particularly involving those apparent twins, was too suspicious to ignore.

#

Touma did not know why he moved, slamming his shoulder into the side of an alleyway. A sense of overwhelming danger had pressed upon his mind, a sense of immediate catastrophe, accompanied by an urge to move immediately. Touma obeyed this instinct and his body moved on its own, shuffling to the side in a manner Touma was not consciously aware of, driving the breath from his lungs, followed by a gasp as his ribs numbed.

A second later a brick wall opposite him shattered, mortar and concrete raining as Touma shielded his head from the blast and coughed as he inhaled the dust that now filled the air. He winced as he felt his arms sliced by flying debris.

"Odd. I would have thought that someone like you would have tried to block that," Mikoto Misaka said, walking up to Touma with her hands on her hips, watching with a frown as he wiped dust and blood off of his self. "Though if you hadn't ran so fast, that wouldn't have been necessary."

Touma hacked once more, eyes blearily looking around. The dust has settled from the explosion. Hopefully no inhabitants of the nearby buildings decided to investigate. Touma blinked and looked behind Mikoto. His eyes widened.

"Where is your clone?" The words came out slurred, hushed, and Touma once more gagged and coughed.

Mikoto blinked and took a step back and glanced behind her. "I don't know, I thought she followed me…" She gulped.

Touma straightened himself, wiping off all stray dust. He took a very deep breath and stared at Mikoto. "Ms. Misaka," he said, tilting his head when she blinked in response. "Do you realize what is going to happen? Do you realize she's probably going to rendezvous with Accelerator and die!" His voice broke near the end.

Mikoto's eyes narrowed. "You said that earlier too, just what is going on and-" She twisted her head and her hands shook. "Damnit, I can't sense her anymore!"

Touma looked down the alleyway once more, then nodded and walked away, biting his lip. "You should go find her. Perhaps you have a chance of dissuading her."

He would have continued walking if Mikoto had not grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. "Dissuade her from what? You've given some rambling on her dying to Number One, but haven't explained a damn thing whatsoever! You expect me to believe on blind faith alone? We're in a city of science. You should be used to some empiricism by now."

Touma stepped back, breaking Mikoto's grip, and stumbled into a wall, reclining into it. "I can't provide evidence for you right now, it's not like I filmed what happened with your…," He paused for a moment, gazing beyond the walls of the alleyway, "...Sister, anyway. But I saw what I saw, and that was Accelerator attempting to kill one of your sisters in an organized attempt to reach Level Six. To become a god."

Mikoto leaned over, looking down at him. "I can't exactly trust you on an anecdotes alone, you know? That's fallacious."

"Fine. If you don't trust me, trust your sister. One of her sisters set up our meeting, and she agreed to the claims I've made."

Mikoto looked away, face shadowed. "Do you realize the implications of what you're saying?"

Touma straightened himself and looked down at Mikoto. "Yes. Do you understand why I want to stop it?"

Mikoto's eyes flashed. "Of course. If such an event has and is occurring I have no choice but to condemn it." She averted her eyes and breathed deeply, the shark intake of air audible in the quiet alleyway. "Who is responsible for this...atrocity?"

"Accelerator is a participant, obviously, but I know the project was approved by the Board of Directors, though I don't know any of the scientists, researchers, or other employees for the actual project. All the information I've received was from one of your sisters, who was not the most reliable source, unfortunately."

Mikoto was quiet for a moment, chewing her lip. After a few seconds, she spoke, "I'm not sure if I believe you, but the fact remains that my clones do exist and they are being used for some type of event that involves combat, considering their equipment." She sighed and turned away from Touma, shoulders rigid. "Give me your phone number."

Touma tilted his head, then took the phone out of his pocket, accessing the contact directory as he turned once more to face her. He recited the number for her. "Alright, I better take your number as well."

Mikoto shook her head. "No, that won't be necessary. At least not right now."

"Why?"

"The entire situation is twisted. My knowledge is insufficient. Need more logos, less pathos. Perhaps a bit of ethos." She turned her head. "I will investigate on my own; if I find any evidence that corroborates your argument, I'll call you. Otherwise, we do not know each other. We never met each other, something I will need to reinforce to my friends." Her face was expressionless. She resembled one of her Sisters. "So long."

She walked away, fading from sight as she crossed a corner.

_The deeper you go, the more entangled you become._

_'The same is true of any situation. This one just so happens to be more lethal and strange. But I suppose by your standards, this is rather normal, huh?'_

_ No. Human behavior is something beyond my ability to understand or emulate. I can tell that what you are investing yourself in is beyond me._

Touma walked out of the alleyway, and blinked in the moonlight. It was time for curfew. He looked down at his still bleeding arms. Perhaps he would be able to get gauze or bandages. That would certainly make Index less angry when she saw him tonight.

* * *

Author's Note:

Next chapter should be out 2/27 or 2/28


	7. Reconciliation

I do not own or claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu No Index.

* * *

Shizuri Mugino walked down decrepit passageways and dark corridors, sniffing disdainfully in the stagnant and dust-filled air. This place was an old bastion for a radical Skill-Out sect, one that promised to combat the oppressive and discriminatory atmosphere of Academy City while preserving and enhancing the current freedoms of its citizenry, decrying the widespread surveillance and accusing the city of being a caste-based technocratic police state, their autonomy and abuses only tolerated by being a protectorate of Japan.

They were right, of course. Shizuri was not blind. The corruption and immorality of the city was ingrained in its very spirit. It was just money and fear-borne respect were so much more satisfying than the delusion of moral behavior, particularly if the ones who professed such an ideology were the lowest on the food chain.

That was what made it so boring when ITEM raided the place a month ago. The Skill-Outs hardly put up a fight and whatever challenge they presented was transient. Their regime collapsed and Shizuri, as an additional reward for tolerating such a job, annexed their former demesne into her kingdom. The pay the client gave her was not too bad either.

Unfortunately, the streak of easy missions and the monotony of academia within the city made Shizuri very bored. The latest mission she received made her angry, too.

Shizuri paused when she realized that moonlight replaced sunlight and the bright lights of the city shined through the windows of the building. She sighed and raised her hand. A ball of green light appeared in it. While composed of an unstable subatomic substance formed by the conversion of electrons, it did emit light, primarily in the green-yellow portion of the visual spectrum, making it useful for illumination.

She cursed the fact she had to call this meeting at night. High pay, high profile. The assassination of the target was very lucrative, though Shizuri hated the mission already. She was not squeamish when it came to wetwork, but pinning this target on her was an affront to her skills and dignity as a Level Five.

Disgusting.

She continued walking, passing shattered doorways and holes in the wall, scorch marks staining the corridor. Shizuri hoped her teammates had arrived on time; it was always prudent to be the last to arrive as a leader. She looked past the splintered remnants of a door, old and broken desks cluttering the room beyond. What had this place been before Skill-Out occupied it? An office building?

Shizuri shrugged. It did not matter. One did not go far by asking questions in her line of work.

She checked her phone. It was 8:00 PM. Night, but not late. The rest of ITEM should have assembled in the designated meeting place by now. Shizuri quickened her pace.

She passed through a doorway, the remains of its door lying as ashes a few meters away. She raised her hand and her psychic torch, gazing across what had likely once been a meeting room: Large, long table in the middle with windows framing two sides and two entrances. The rest of ITEM waited within.

"Oh! You made it Mugino. We were wondering if you were going to be late again." Frenda Seivelun said, sitting on the edge of the desk, watching Mugino, head tilted to her left. "So what is it? Our benefactor contracted us again, right?"

Sahai Kinuhata looked at Frenda, straightening as she stepped off the wall she had been leaning against. "It's super obvious, isn't it? Why else would she want us to meet in this super secret location." She turned to Shizuri, smiling. "Though that doesn't answer Frenda's second question, Mugino."

Shizuri glanced at one of the chairs surrounding the table. Rikou Takitsubo sat in it, staring at nothing in particular. "Wake up, Rikou. I'd rather not repeat myself later."

"I'm fully conscious right now," Rikou said, eyes unmoving. "I just got bored waiting for you."

Shizuri sighed. "Fine. Frenda is correct. We've received the standard assassination orders." She fished through her handbag, retrieving a series of documents. "Target is a high school student by the name of Touma Kamijou. Registered as a Level 0 and has been enrolled in the Power Curriculum Program since the age of eight." She narrowed her eyes. "Not much more than that, however. The client was unwilling to share or simply did not possess the information in the first place. No references to schedules, which I'm going to assume is due to summer break."

"Is that it?" Sahai frowned. "No references to why he's been targeted, his family, friends, acquaintances? Not even his super power?"

"Like I said, the information was incomplete. Besides, most of that is irrelevant. All that matters is that someone is willing to pay to see him dead." She snorted. "And he's a Level 0. Does it matter what ability he has?"

"Even a Level 0 can be danger in certain circumstances, Mugino," Rikou said. She stretched her arms and yawned. "Even you could die if caught unprepared."

Shizuri glared at Rikou. "It is pointless to form conjecture of statistical improbabilities. We must move on. Rikou, I assume you know what to do." Rikou nodded. "Good. We'll start sweeping the city then. Pinpoint his location, schedule, social behavior, anything that determines his movement. Go one district at a time. While we're doing that, we'll also uncover as much information as possible, whether it be from peers, friends, teachers, family."

"Then?" Frenda questioned. She paced around the room, glancing occasionally at the documents Shizuri still held in her hands.

"Then we'll isolate him and I'll kill him. Perhaps I'll ensure our confrontation has some witnesses. I must remind the plebeians of their place, after all."

Rikou fidgeted and asked, "We start tomorrow, right? It is getting late."

"Fine. We'll meet back here tomorrow. 9:00 AM exactly. Our search will be less conspicuous in the morning."

Shizuri turned and walked out.

She heard Sahai's voice behind her. "I have to admit I feel sorry for the poor guy. He's screwed."

#

Touma took the stairs three steps at a time, arms still freshly covered in gauze. The sun had fully set by now and Judgement occasionally prowled the streets, looking for and accosting those dodging curfew and their eyes, whose number included Touma this night, watching their surrounding carefully. Touma did not want to put up with all the hassle of being caught.

He had more important concerns to sort through.

By the time Touma reached the floor of his dorm room, he was panting and sweating, unable to control his breath, and stood hunched over, leaning against one wall, looking out into the dark hallway beyond. He took a moment to regain his composure; it had been an exhausting night, sure, but Index would not buy that justification under normal circumstances let alone the new dynamic the two operated under. Perhaps Himegami could cool her off, but for all Touma knew she was angry as well.

'_Such misfortune,' _Touma thought, straightening himself as he caught his breath.

_You did bring this upon yourself. If you did not understand the consequences then, you deserve them now._

'_As always, I can rely on your constant support and companionship.'_

Back straight, breath caught, Touma walked down the shrouded corridors that circled his dormitory, navigating the way to his room on pure memory. He shivered. For a summer night, it felt oddly cold, but what did Touma know? He was not a meteorologist.

Touma paused, inspected a designation on a door, sighed, and took his keys out of his pocket. Hopefully Index and Himegami were asleep inside. He unlocked the door and walked inside, gently closing it behind him. His dorm was dark; a good sign.

Touma tread across the floor, feet light, and entered the main room and glanced about, observing the TV, bed, table, and other miscellaneous items. He saw a swelling on the bed, the blankets, oddly misshapen, and sighed in relief.

"Touma. You're home."

Touma's breath hitched and he spun around, backing up, eyes squinting in the still foreign darkness. He clenched his right hand into a fist before unfurling it, nervous.

Index stood still, clad in pajamas, nearly silent save for her quiet breathing. Her green eyes nearly glowed in the darkness. "It's nice to see you, I suppose." Index tilted her head as Touma took a hesitant step forward. "What are you so concerned about?"

She jumped back as Touma bowed down, supporting himself with his arms, head nearly touching the floor. "Index, I'm sorry." His voice was quiet, subdued, but it permeated the entire apartment, filling every corner. There was a sound of moving fabric and soft footsteps.

Index's eyes widened. She looked around the dorm for a moment, mouth open, before settling her gaze on Touma. After a few seconds, Index sighed and pouted. "I'm still angry with you, but I guess I'll accept your apology for now."

Touma sighed and smiled and sat himself upright, back creaking. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and Index's face, while still petulant, was slowly smiling. Soft footsteps approached from behind.

"Touma?" Himegami said, brow furrowed, a blanket draped across her shoulders. "You're home." She smiled. "I hope the hospital actually officially released you this time. Unfortunately, Index refused to tell me why she was angry with you?" She tilted her head and looked past Touma and at Index, who growled and glared back.

Touma stood up and pressed his fingers against his forehead, closing his eyes for a few seconds before sighing and facing Himegami, face expressionless. "Himegami, two weeks ago I lost all my personal memories. I knew Index from before that time and lied to her about what happened." His tone was strong, direct, and uninflected. His heart was pounding inside his chest.

Himegami looked at both Index and Touma, eyes clouded, unfocused, roving between them as her breathing broke and stuttered. She reached for her long hair with one hand, twirling the black fibers as she turned away. "I-I see. Well, it doesn't matter. We met after that, and you're the same person now that you were back then." She turned back to them. "How did you lose your memory, anyway?"

Index turned away. "I'm valuable to the Anglican Church and they tried to retrieve me, but Touma intervened and lost his memory in the backlash." She shot Touma a wide-eyed look.

Touma walked and sat on the bed, arms back, pressing his weight into it as he gazed at the ceiling. Index and Himegami continued talking in whispers. Even in the gloom, Touma could see how Himegami's face paled. She shot him furtive glances.

_Did you expect them to accept you and your secrets unconditionally?_

Touma sat up again and said, "There's one, maybe two more things that both of you should know." Their whispers stopped and their heads turned. Touma extended his right hand outwards. "I lost Imagine Breaker. I'm a true esper now."

"What? How did you lose it? Why?" Index's voice was frantic, high-pitched. She paced around the room, staring at Touma all the while.

"I lost Imagine Breaker. I don't know. I don't know." With a small grunt, Touma picked himself up and stood in front of Index, idly rubbing his face, eyes drooping. Himegami approached, looking everywhere but at Touma.

Index, however, was alert. "What's that on your arms." She leaned in, eyes squinting as Touma took a step back, nearly tripping over the bed. "Are those bandages?" Touma snapped his arms behind his back but Index caught one of them and pried it towards her face, inspecting it. "Touma, there's dried blood on these."

He checked. There was indeed blood soaking through the gauze. He slid his hand out of Index's slacking grip. Her arms hung limply at her sides as she stared at the ground at her feet, not reacting when Himegami placed a hand on her shoulder, staring at her. Touma said, "I suppose there is, huh. That's unfortunate." He glanced at Himegami, whose face was taut. "I suppose I'll go wash it, it seems like it's distracting us."

Touma stepped around them, eyes peeled to the floor. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and turned to face Index, arm outreached, scowling. "Why? Why do you keep getting hurt? Who is doing this to you?" She retracted her hand and cradled her head. "Does it have to with you losing Imagine Breaker? Is someone targeting you, is someone trying to kill you?" Index looked up, tears on her face. "Touma, please tell me what's going on. Tell me something, tell me anything! Just let me help you!" She took a deep breath. "You keep hiding everything inside, Touma. Eventually its going to break you. It's going to break all of us."

Touma sat back down on the bed and stared at his right hand, outstretched in front of him, almost touching Index. After a minute, he said, "You're right it. Damnit, but you're right." He clenched his hand and brought in front of his face. Both Index and Himegami starred in the closed his eyes and released a shuddering breath. "Remember a few days ago, when I first left the hospital? That was after I lost Imagine Breaker, and right when things started to go to shit."


	8. Threshold

I do not own or claim ownership of To Aru Majutsu No Index

* * *

**Chapter 8: Threshold**

**Behavioral Evaluation of Specimen AM**

**Abstract:**

The specimen's behavior is often oscillating, varying between periods of childish inquisitiveness and petulant anger, often stating disparaging remarks (e.g. "What type of idiot researchers are you?") to the supervising staff. Combined with a reluctance to participate in outlined experimental procedures and continued pleading for constant recognition from researchers and staff, a conclusion had been drawn that the specimen's condition is exacerbating both positive and negative emotional tendencies, consistent with some diagnoses of bipolar disorder and adjustment disorder. Further information about the specimen's psychological condition is necessary before further inquires into its condition.

#

Touma closed the door behind him softly, eyes unfocused, mind light and weary. He wore the same clothes he had yesterday, still covered with dust, his arms still adorned with dried, caked blood. Nothing contributed to a reputable appearance and his look and demeanor suggested a troubled delinquent who got a bit too careless in his nightly misadventures.

His phone recorded a time of 3:23 AM. Night had not yielded to dawn yet, and there was still danger to embrace. Touma knew that Index was not impressed by his decision to leave, but she had relented when he reminded her of the situation. Himegami had been disappointed by his refusal to accept their help, but Touma maintained that their presence would not be helpful once Mikoto Misaka and he reacquainted themselves.

He hoped she was in an agreeable enough mood. Something told him she was no stranger to anger.

Touma checked the hallway around him. No lights were on; only moonlight saturated the air. It was cold for a summer night and even the thunder of traffic seemed distant. Academy City was a place where the city did indeed sleep, the combination of a largely student population and mandatory curfews pacifying what would otherwise be an endless day in the rest of the Greater Tokyo Area.

In the gloom, Touma heard approaching footsteps and a low chuckle. Motoharu Tsuchimikado stopped before Touma, a smile on his face, his eyes covered by his omnipresent sunglasses. "Well, well, Kamijou, breaking curfew I see."

Touma stared at him for one second, then turned around and walked away. "Maybe. I doubt you could see much of anything wearing those glasses at night, however. It would certainly explain some things."

Tsuchimikado caught up with him and grinned. "Oh, you wound me. Perhaps I'll report you to Judgement now, if you treat your friends this way."

Touma heard a grumbling in his head. _This one is annoying, but he has a point. Now, maybe you'll reconsider your commitment?_

"Yes," Touma said, "I'm sure they'll be impressed by your decision to report me, particularly as it appears you are guilty of the same crime." Touma turned to a nervously chuckling Tsuchimikado. "Unless you've taken up a hobby of loitering outside your dorm at night?"

Tsuchimikado raised a hand to his chest. "Touma, your newfound powers of deduction amaze me! You've been hiding your true talents for years it seems."

Touma heard the invisible thing in the back of his mind snort.

"Though," Tsuchimikado said, studying Touma. They stood in front of the dormitory stairwell. "You haven't given a reason for why you have the sudden need to vacate our pleasent dormitory."

Touma walked down the stairs, growling when he realized Tsuchimikado followed him. "I need to clear my head, and I can't sleep right now. Taking a walk will help. Why do you care, anyway?"

Tsuchimikado raised one hand. "Two reasons: One, you're my neighbor and friend, so I have to inquire about your duplicitous behavior. Two, it's three in the morning, and we have class five hours from now."

Touma tripped and barely caught himself on the railing. "What?"

"Yep. You've already missed all classes this past week due to your rush of freak illnesses. Komoe has been so worried. Not that it excuses you from performing make-up work of course."

Touma turned to Tsuchimikado, knuckles white as his hand gripped the railing. After a moment, Touma released a breath. "I've missed a lot. Too much." Shaking his head, Touma continued his descent. "Regardless, I need to go out right now. Hopefully I'll be ready for class in time."

Rubbing his forehead, Tsuchimikado remained still. "And what is so important that you have to go out right now to accomplish it?"

"I've already told you-"

"You told me a lie. Tell me the truth."

Touma paused on the landing and looked back up at Tsuchimikado, still waiting on the stairs. Touma said, "I can't. I won't" Touma shook his head and prepared to descend. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Tsuchimikado gave a harsh laugh. "Trust me, nothing you can say would surprise me."

"Knowing you, that might be almost true." A second later, Tsuchimikado disappeared around a corner and Touma continued downward, plotting a path.

#

_That friend of yours knows something._

Touma grunted, eyes tracing the map overplayed on the screen of his phone, the only light in the shadow of a sandwich shop's canopy. The few passerby glanced at him but moved on, uncaring. His phone listed a time of 4:13 AM. Dawn would arrive soon.

With a sigh, Touma closed and pocketed his phone and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. He peeked out from under the canopy, eyes strained on the sky, before looking away. Still no stars; he wondered if he would ever see them.

Touma stepped out from under the canopy, hands in pockets, studying the street. It was a normal place, filled with restaurants, convenience stores, and other retails. An odd car and person occasionally crossed, but the street was functionally inanimate.

_'Why did I do this?' _Touma thought, crossing the street, following his pre-established path. _'Stupid. I don't know where she went. Hopefully she managed to save her little sister.' _Even as he ruminated on that piece of hope, uncertainty and fear wormed into his stomach. After all, had he not hoped for the best for #9978 as well? A hope that was extinguished when her Sister revealed that she had indeed been killed by Accelerator. His involvement was for nothing. Her death for nothing but the dream of a sociopath.

Accelerator. Even know, he realized the implications of his actions, realized that the culmination of his actions was another confrontation with that monster. Another chance to stare into those red eyes, another chance to be defeated effortlessly.

Crossing another street, ignoring the curious glances of other pedestrians, Touma looked at his right hand. Everything would be much easier if he had retained Imagine Breaker. Its loss had nearly killed him, once in the mix between his esper nature and the presence of the Alien and once more in his fight with Accelerator, where the power to nullify supernatural phenomena would have been ideal. And to think he had once cursed it for the misfortune it brought.

_Resentful, are you?_

_'How did you figure it out. I mean, it's as if you noticed the fact that you nearly killed me, are currently locking me from the only advantage I possess, and constantly berate and bellitle me. You have a keen intuition.'_

Touma could swear he saw the world shake from the animalistic growl he heard from within. _And, conversely, I am the only reason you are currently alive and a fellow occupier of this vessel._

Touma stopped walking, ignoring the muttered curses of the pedestrians who were forced to weave around him. _'Fellow occupier? You mean trepasser, usurper. You're actually lecturing me about how I am the selfish one here? This is only happening because you refuse to leave.'_

_Trespasser__, huh. I have been inhabiting this body far longer than you have, ignorant mongrel. Perhaps the old Touma could have made that argument without being hypocritical, but to me you are simply a stranger in another man's body._

_'What is your angle here? You argue with me, chastise me, insult me, yet constantly criticize my efforts to improve myself. Whenever I try to help someone, you warn me of the danger, and when I fail you belittle me for my weakness. What are you trying to do?'_

_Always ignoring the reality in front of you. Yes, that is something you are quite good at, Touma. Never thinking of the implications of your actions, the content of your character, always leaping to the flaws you perceive in others. But that is understandable. If the only thing you know of the previous Touma was his heroic actions, so of course you would try to emulate them, even if you do not understand them. That's what your intervention in this cloning project is ultimately about, the reason you fight beyond the limits of sanity and reason. It is all because you want to be like him._

"Shut up!" Touma's shout resounded from the street corner he stood on, echoing down the building and the streets, spreading and weakining across the entire block.

"Well, that was rude."

Touma turned and backed off, right arm raised in front of him, left arm in a guard at his side. He blinked as he studied the person in front of him. Young, thirteen to fourteen years old, wearing a school uniform, auburn hair tied into two pigtails. Her brown eyes stared disapprovingly at him. And, worst of all, she wore a curious armband.

"Judgement," Touma said, voice low, reluctantly lowering his stance, which, he admitted upon reflection, was one designed with Imagine Breaker in mind. He contorted his face into a smile. "Sorry for outburst earlier, I've had a bad week."

"You're not the only one," the Judgement officer said, whose eyes Touma could now see were bloodshot with darkness underneath them. "Still you're breaking curfew. I suppose such disruptive behavior is not uncommon for high school males, unfortunately."

Touma blinked at her last remark. "Yes, sorry, but would you believe me if I said it was for a good cause?"

The Judgement officers placed her hands on her hips and stared at Touma with doubt etched into her face. "Good cause?"

Touma studied her uniform for a moment. It looked similiar to what she wore. "Yes, a very good cause. Would you happen to know Mikoto Misaka?"

The stare intensified into a glare. "Maybe. Why do you want to know?"

"The good cause I mentioned earlier. She's an essential component of it."

"And what is this good cause?"

Touma mulled over that for a moment before saying, "I can't tell you."

The Judgement officer stepped closer, scowling. "Does it have to with my big...Mikoto's disappearance."

Touma backed away and turned around, starting to walk away. "I really don't know. I should-"

The Judgement officer suddenly appeared within Touma's field of view ,a rush of wind accompanying her, forcing him to jump back. He looked over his shoulder. She was not there. He turned back and backed a step away as he found her less than a meter in front of him. Touma had not heard the sound of footsteps.

_'A telepath,' _Touma thought. _'Or a illusionist?'_

_Not the first. No one would remain sane leafing through your mind due to my presense. _

"My name is Kuroko Shirai," the Judgement officer said, "And I have the right to detain you until you answer my question satisfactorily. Particularity if you are involved with the potential disappearance of a Level Five."

_'What type of bullshit rule is that?' _Touma backed away nervously and blinked as Kuroko disappeared in front of him, and he stopped when he felt a hand against his back.

"I'm a Level Four teleporter," Kuroko helpfully informed Touma. "And I daresay running away would be a mistake."

Touma considered her proposition for a moment before shoving his back backwards, imbalancing Kuroko who fell down with a surprised yelp. Touma did not hesitate in running down the street, eyes scanning the adjacent buildings for an alleyway to duck into. Touma did not know how Kuroko's power was, but he hypothesized it was likely partially based on line-of-sight or spatial and visual memory.

He was forced to skid to a stop when Kuroko appeared a few meters in front of him, one hand touching a pouch on her hip.

_'Unlock my esper power now!'_

Touma heard a grunt from within, which was followed a flash of blackness as he gasped in pain. Light distorted, and Touma heard the escaping steam of the concrete sidewalk disintegrating as he felt something Alien slither off of his body and into the air before returning to him, pulsing through his chest. Then there was silence.

Touma looked up. Kuroko looked at him, horrified, before shaking her head and trained her eyes on him, expression resolving.

In a bright, oscillating world within him, Touma invited chaos unto reality.

Touma took Accelerator's comment to heart. He researched Electromagnetic Radiation, learned of the various spectrums, ranging from the short wavelength, high energy gamma rays to the long wavelength, low energy radio waves. He learned about radiant energy, of the photons that carried it and momentum, but possessed no mass. Learned how humans perceived in the visual spectrum and the sun's output peaked in the blue-green range. Touma learned all about that, and turned it into a weapon.

Touma took the light in front of him, bended its direction and straightened its wavelengths and energies to be pure white, and shot at Kuroko. She screamed in pain, presenting an opportunity. Touma took it and retreated back, rounding the corner he stood on only seconds ago, each breath a knife in his longs, each step nails in his feet.

He heard a rush of wind periodically behind him, likely the sound of displaced air which he had assumed was simply the wind earlier.

A second later he felt something smash into his left shoulder, tumbling him, forcing him to look up only for a foot to descend on his face, forcing it down. Stars burst in his vision. Desperately, he used the same trick he tried on Accelerator: contorting the light around them, randomly shifting wavelength and direction. Even still, with his control he could still feel her in the maelstrom of color. Feel her randomly 'jump', for lack of a better word to describe the sensation.

A few second later, he felt her leave his pocket of perception and he managed to straighten himself and stand up. He did not remove the storm around him, no matter how confusing it was for his eyes, no matter how it felt like pins sticking into the back of his eyes. It was his only shield.

A shield that was broken when he felt a rock enter the storm and smash the top of his head, forcing him to his knees, cradling it as he felt blood pour down his forehead into his eyes. Had she teleported it above him and let it fall? The pain soon became unbearable and Touma 's control faded; the typhoon lifted.

Touma heard the rushing wind and the scent of perfume, footsteps echoing off the pavement, walking up his injured form. "Stupid ape. I hate it when people like you think they can resort to violence to-" Kuroko's speech was interrupted when Touma launched himself forward, latching across he legs, disrupting her balance and causing her to tumble.

A moment later Touma found himself and Kuroko on a nearby rooftop. He blinked. Did she unconsciously factor his weight and dimensions into her calculations? Kuroko yelping and breaking his grip on her legs while scurrying away seemed to indicate that.

Touma took a deep breath and shifted all the light around him into the radio spectrum. He could feel Kuroko blink a few meters away. After all, he had rendered himself invisible, at least to people without abilities similar to his. He also blinded himself with this technique, but that was find; the human brain was not designed to process the amount of information he saw in this state. His bubble of perception was already pressing his limit.

Unfortunately, that did not do much as she remembered his position and she jumped in front of him. With a light tap, he found himself flying towards the ground.

It was not very high, but he nearly screamed when his back crashed into the ground, horrible pain pulsating through it before succumbing to a biting numbness. A second later, a few spikes fell and impaled the edges of his clothes, pinning him to the ground.

Kuroko's face appeared above. "Not bad. You must a high Level Three esper, perhaps pushing Level Four. Suprising for such a barbarian." She crouched down next to him, chin in palm, managing to look both bored and furious. "Now, why don't you explain that good cause of yours. And tell me where my big sister is where we are at it."

Touma glanced at his restraints and back at Kuroko before sighing. "I don't know where Mikoto is. All I know is that she is in danger."

"Danger," Kuroko softly repeated, staring at him, brow furrowed. "And what kind of danger are you referring to?"

Touma bit his lip, shaking his head. "It's not my business to tell, that's hers to share."

"That doesn't explain your involvement."

"She's in danger."

Kuroko sat straight. "Danger? Why did you not call Anti-Skill or Judgement then?"

Touma closed his eyes. He sighed. "Because the Number One is involved."

"What? You expect me to believe-"

"Please! Mikoto's in danger, I think she went to confront him."

"Confront him over what?"

Touma looked away. "I can't tell you. I can only tell that it is deeply important to her, deeply important to a lot of people."

Kuroko tilted her head, studying him. "Important?"

"People could die, including Mikoto."

Kuroko had an unreadable expression for a moment before sighing and removing the spikes. "Well, come on then."

"What?"

She shook her head and stood up, blankly staring as Touma struggled up, hand on his back, wincing. "You obviously have a connection to her on this matter, and she has been missing." Kuroko gnawed one of her fingernails. "If she is in danger, and Number One is involved." She then glared at Touma. "What is your relationship with her?"

"What." Touma attempted to straighten himself, letting out a gasp every few seconds. "We're merely acquaintances. Why do you ask?"

Kuroko sniffed. "We're roommates, and I am simply concerned over the health of her relationships,..." She glanced back at Touma. "What is your name by the way?"

Touma rubbed his eyes. "Touma Kamijou."

"Right then Touma," she held out her hand. "Shall we?"

Touma grimaced. "Sorry, we have to wait a second I'm in incrediable pain right now."

Kuroko laughed. "Pain you well deserve for assulting a Judgement officer. Be grateful I'm letting you off so easily for your help."

"Yes, thank you. Now can you turn away for a moment? I need to take my medication, and it is pretty disturbing." Kuroko rolled her eyes and turned away, and Touma called upon the eldritch horror within to seal off his link to power.


End file.
